


baja blast

by dothemario



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Internet Famous, M/M, background dimiclaude, background nettecedes, i dont know anything about tiktok please let me be cool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothemario/pseuds/dothemario
Summary: Sylvain lets his 10 year old cousin borrow his phone on Thanksgiving, who proceeds to absolutely decimate his TikTok feed algorithm. It turns out to be a good thing.A silly little Modern/College AU where Sylvain and Felix are TikTok stars!
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 46
Kudos: 168
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	1. the inherent homeroticism of swords

With age, Sylvain found that holidays at home were getting a little more bearable.

When he was a kid, Sylvain spent each of his Thanksgivings sitting criss-crossed on his cousin’s bedroom floor, craning his neck around the older kids’ backs to watch them play Sonic Adventure 2 on a fuzzy TV screen. If he was lucky, they would let him play with their Bionicles.

However, if his cousins weren’t around a year (the worst possible outcome), he would waste the night away sprawled on his aunt’s carpet, mind going numb as the adults droned on plush couches around him.

Now, at 21, he was getting a hang of the whole ‘maturity’ deal, and not only kept up with dinner table conversations, but excelled at them. 

He knew exactly what each aunt and uncle wanted to hear from him, and how to say it. Thank uncle for teaching him about the stock market, and pretend to be interested in whatever the fuck NASDAQ is. Ask auntie about her new purse, and not where her boyfriend from the last holiday party was. Commend grandpa for his riveting recount of his last visit to the supermarket, where he refrained from racially profiling _any_ of the workers! Heroic.

Still, it’s not like that new proficiency erased his empathy for his 10 year old nephew, Etienne, who seems to have inherited Sylvain’s role as the resident bored-out-of-his-mind child.

“Looking mighty excited there, ‘Tienne,” Sylvain left his spot on the couch, and went to sit against the wall with the glum kid. 

“I’m _bored,_ ” Etienne drawled, and buried his head in his knees. “I wish I had _something_ to do...I’d even do homework at this point.”

Sylvain winced. “Homework? Gee, you must be desperate.” 

Etienne jutted his jaw out in a pout. Like their signature red hair and sun kissed freckles, the expressiveness of the Gautier Pout was something everyone in Sylvain’s family had in their arsenal.

“Well, I would go outside and play with you, but it’s gotten a bit dark,” Sylvain pondered, glancing out the sliding glass door, which divided the warm living room from the darkly obscured backyard. “Wanna use my phone for a bit?”

Etienne’s eyes lit up, then nodded eagerly, so Sylvain slid his phone out of his pocket (after being sure to delete any... _incriminating_ messages) and handed it over.

The rest of the night went without incident, other than Sylvain’s mother being a bit tipsier than she would’ve liked, prompting Sylvain to pilot her and her Prius home.

Sylvain pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it at his hamper, missed tragically, and did nothing about it. He plopped down on his bed, and fumbled with his phone charger in the pitch-black darkness until he found the port with a _snap._

He opened TikTok.

Looking at his most recent video, Sylvain grunted in disapproval: it had barely broken through 50K likes, and his comment count was absolutely abysmal. Unfortunately, his popularity had been slowly dipping over the past month. He wasn’t sure what was up; did people just not find him charming anymore?

There it was, the pulling feeling Sylvain knew all too well. The sensation of anxiety grasping at his throat, trying to drag it into the shallowest part of his chest. 

Sylvain hated it, hated that he placed his own self worth on the shoulders of strangers. Strangers whose perception of him is wholly based on less than a minute’s worth of time, time spent putting on a salacious persona that got people giggling. 

Still, he couldn’t drag himself away from the attention. After all, praise is praise, and in the end, did it really matter if Sylvain could muster his own self worth, if others could simply supply it for him? 

That’s why Sylvain chose to simply not think about this most of the time. He allowed himself to be happy, knowing that he was at least making someone else smile somewhere in this world.

However, that happiness was short lived, as Sylvain immediately noticed something was amiss. As he steadily skipped and skipped over videos on his recommended feed, he realized that his algorithm was _unquestionably_ off.

Normally, Sylvain’s feed was filled with hotties doing raunchy dances, or snippy vlogs by fellow TikTok stars he mutually followed.

He wasn’t fond of either genres, but it sort of came with the burden of being internet famous. What had really thrown Sylvain off was absence of his favorite TikToks: the ones where people explicate their mental breakdowns in the reflection of their bathroom mirrors. Because same.

Instead, each of the videos he scrolled past was about...swords.

Like, real ass weapons. 

In one video was the unboxing of a machete to the tune of what sounded like a brony dubstep remix from the early 2010s. In another, some guy drawled about the center of balance in a katana he brandished, filmed from the chest down.

It didn’t take long for Sylvain to realize that this was Etienne’s doing; he had used Sylvain’s phone for at least three hours straight, and it was now _very_ clear he spent all of that time on one app, searching one topic.

Sylvain went to the creator profile of the last video he watched, and was met with the following bio:

**@falchiondarius**

**Felix | 20 | 🌈 | while you were busy getting laid I was busy studying the blade**

Oh god. That had to be a joke, right?

Sylvain tried to meet people’s varying interests with an open mind, but he came to a blank when he tried to understand how people could be enthralled by weird dudes posing with actual tools of murder.

But Sylvain found himself sitting through every video posted by this profile, staring innocuously as the man deftly flipped blades over his palm like a party trick. The somewhat sandpapery tenor voice that narrated each one was a bit hypnotizing; Sylvain couldn’t remember the last time he heard someone speak so passionately about their hobby.

Then again, from all the swords he seemed to have, this was probably this guy’s job. _Swordsman,_ Sylvain pondered, _is that a real job?_

That’s when Sylvain realized some of these weapons weren’t actually real: some were cosplay props that @falchiondarius made. He was absolutely flabbergasted that someone could make something look so realistic, so dangerous. 

Once Sylvain realized he now knew the difference between a shamshir and a scimitar, he decided it was time to stop watching this dude’s videos, and attempt to get his feed back to normal.

That was the plan, until the next video posted by @falchiondarius was a thank-you video to his followers.

With his face.

The video repeated a minimum of thirty times, and with each replay Sylvain’s jaw dropped a smidgeon lower.

This guy was _heavenly._

“Uh, hello everybody,” his eyes looked askance, lips curled in a scowl, “ _er_...I don’t really know how to do these things, but apparently I’m supposed to.”

“So…” a sharp inhale, followed by an exasperated sigh and a hand pushed through tangled black locks, “thank you all for 5000 followers. I didn’t think people would actually like this shit, but here you are, I guess.”

He hummed awkwardly. “I’m just going to go back to posting sword videos, so don’t expect this kind of thing to come up again. So yeah, thank you. Bye.” 

And it replayed, and replayed, and replayed, yet Sylvain was able to find a new detail to focus on each time.

The way his honeyed eyes darted shyly beneath a curtain of silky lashes.

The way stripes of shuttered light reflected on his silvery skin.

The way he adorably winced each time he said _thank you._

After what seemed like an eternity, Sylvain slammed his phone face down on his bed stand, squirmed deeper into his sheets, and shuddered.

He was used to seeing hot people on this god-forsaken app, and had his fair share of lustings, but Mister @falchiondarius here was somethin’ else. Hell, he was so cute that Sylvain estimated he could be stuck on his mind for as long as a week.

Maybe Etienne had some good taste in TikToks after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy! i wrote this because i wanted to have some fun and be wacky. i hope you will also have fun reading it!
> 
> i don't really know anything about tiktok other than having it downloaded for about a week...i just thought it would make for a funny concept...heh...
> 
> also if not clear, sylvain lives with his mother in this AU because i hate his dad :) and his thanksgiving pastimes with his cousins are directly pulled from my own childhood so if you relate i feel you homie


	2. felix and annette go to taco bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Annette go to Taco Bell.

“I am _not_ going to a fucking TikTok convention.”

Annette let out a whine so dramatic that Felix had to cover his ears.

“Come on, can’t you just do this _one_ nice thing for me? Pleeeeeease?”

“I don’t do nice things. When have I ever done nice things?” Felix grumbled, which earned him a sharp thump on the forehead. It almost made him drop his Crunchwrap Supreme; only Annette was capable of making Felix lose his cool in a Taco Bell.

“What the hell? Why do you want me to go to this stupid con so badly?”

“Because,” Annette spat, and Felix immediately regretted asking, knowing he was in for an essay’s worth of reasoning. “If you go, you get to grant VIP access to a guest. And that guest would be _me._ Meaning I can meet all of the famous TikTokers at the backstage events.”

Annette exasperatedly popped a cinnamon twist in her mouth, then continued.

“It’s literally like the gods are shining down on me Felix, but you’re being a twat and standing in my way!”

“I’m not a twat…” Felix started, but Annette cut him off with wide eyes that exuded bloodthirst. “Even if I _did_ go, who says I would take you? You’re not my only friend, you know.”

Annette ignored that because they both knew it was an outright lie. Annette and Felix did everything together, and both knew they wouldn’t want it any other way, no matter how much they loved to get on each others’ nerves.

 _“Please,_ Felix…” Annette collapsed into a boneless heap on the table, heaving disingenuous sobs and grasping Felix’s hands, which recoiled in disgust. “It’s all I ever wanted in life...it’s all I will ever want, _period…_ ”

“Okay, fine, just get up,” Felix hissed, eliciting an overjoyed squeal from his best friend, along with a stream of _I love yous_ and the like. “But you owe me. A lot.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll buy you something pretty and shiny for your videos.” Felix opened his mouth in a retort, deeply wounded that his canon-compliant weapon replicas had just been described as _pretty_ , but lost his chance when Annette bounced up from her seat to throw away her trash.

“What exactly is this...thing?” Felix mumbled, at loss of a better word to describe the absolute monstrosity, a TikTok convention. 

Felix really disliked TikTok. He thought it was a stupid platform for attention whores to fill up their egos with the misspelled gushes of tween fans, a platform he most certainly didn’t belong on. 

However, Annette had pushed him to give the app a try, as it would be a great way to find cosplayers who were interested in his prop creation videos, or interested in actually _buying_ a prop. 

The thought of someone purchasing his hard work made Felix’s heart pump a little faster.

“It’s like those weeb conventions you go to,” Annette explained, receiving another visceral cringe from Felix at the desecration of his passions. 

“People show up to meet other people who like the same stuff, I guess. There’s panels, workshops, parties… ” 

Annette sighed blissfully and rested her chin on her hands, and Felix was sure she was baking up a scenario in her head, in which she would meet a TikToker and they’ll become best friends forever, _blah blah_. The thought rose the slightest twang of jealousy.

“And it’s not just for TikTok! VidCon is for _all_ streaming platforms, so we can probably meet a bunch of YouTubers too! Don’t you see, Felix? It’s huge that you got invited to this thing, and that you get to be on a panel and everything!”

Felix felt his face grew hot, and tried his best to will his temperature down. 

It’s true, he _did_ see the names of the other creators on the panel he was to speak at, and it would be a lie to say he didn’t have a bit of a fanboy moment; to think that he would be sitting a few chairs away from the cosplay and weaponry YouTubers he admired, as their equal...

“See? Now you’re daydreaming about it. I told you this was a good idea!”

Felix snapped back to the present to give Annette a half-lidded glare, but she responded as she always did with a sly giggle. 

“Yeah, but I have good reasons. _You_ just want to meet Sylvain.” Almost immediately, Felix groaned in regret, because at the mention of the scoundrel’s name, Annette began to swoon.

 _“Sylvain..._ Felix, it’s _destiny_. He’s gonna be there, he announced it last week! Will you be our best man?”

Felix’s bark of disapproval only made Annette fall deeper in her trance.

“What do you even like about him? He’s just another stupid hot guy on straight people TikTok. You don’t even like men! You’re gay!” 

“Oh, Felix, you just don’t understand!” her tone rose back to a shrill shout, “it’s not about lust! We are clearly soulmates from head to toe! And he’s not like the other weirdos on TikTok, for your information; Sylvain is _actually_ funny, _actually_ sexy--”

“Okay, I get it, now shut up,” Felix stood from their table and picked up his tray, unable to take any more gushing. Annette followed, trailing him with a pout.

Felix was sure he could never understand Annette’s fixation on meeting some internet personality she knew absolutely nothing about. Sure, it’s one thing to find someone funny or charming from what they post, but don’t people know it’s all just for show? That it’s all fake?

Sometimes Felix thinks he’s the last honest person left in the world.

When they walked out of Taco Bell, Felix had started down the sidewalk to head back to campus, but found that Annette wasn’t following him, and was instead walking into the boba place next door.

“Don’t you have class? And didn’t you just drink a Baja Blast?”

Whining. 

Felix threw his arms up in abandon, knowing better than to argue with Annette over her love of sweets, and followed her inside.


	3. beyonce...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to go to VidCon.

Of course Dimitri didn’t know what TikTok was. He didn’t know what anything was.

“Dimitri, buddy, are you serious? You’ve _never_ heard of TikTok?” Sylvain reached up to throw an arm around the shoulders of his clueless monolith of a friend.

“No...is it the Beyonce song?”

Sylvain wasn’t ready to have the conversation with Dimitri about how Ke$ha and Beyonce were not remotely the same person, so he chose to ignore his question.

“TikTok is kind of like Vine. You know what Vine is, right?” 

An innocuous, confused puppy stare.

“Okay. TikTok is an app where people share short videos of themselves. It’s like YouTube, but much shorter. I _know_ you know what YouTube is...please tell me you know what YouTube is…”

To his relief, Dimitri’s face lit up, and he gave an excited nod. 

“I watch YouTube! Those Harlem Shake videos are very funny!”

Pain. All Sylvain knew was pain.

“Yeah, they sure are, pal. Anyways, I’m sorta famous on TikTok-” Sylvain held his hands up in playful abashment when Dimitri _oohed_ , “and I got invited to this little convention for it. I’m allowed to bring a guest, and was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

To Sylvain’s dismay, Dimitri frowned. “I’d be down, but I kind of...have no idea what I would do there?”

Sylvain let out a bellowing laugh, stopping in his tracks, and waved at the skyline, as if he were surveying a kingdom.

“ _Party._ ”

The two started to guffaw like idiots, and Dimitri agreed to be his plus-one. Sylvain pulled open the door to their lecture hall, and once the two sat down in the tiered desks (in the very back, at Sylvain’s request), Dimitri had grown more curious.

“What exactly are you famous for?” 

“Um…” How was Sylvain supposed to explain to his friend that he posted thirst-traps and brainless skits? Dimitri has been his closest friend since childhood, but Sylvain always did his best to keep his online presence separate from real life. Now that he really thought about it, he wasn’t sure he was ready for Dimitri to see this other side of him, and began to regret inviting him to VidCon.

Nonetheless, it was too late now, and he was sure they would have an unforgettable time.

“Well, I...I make-” 

And the gods had mercy on Sylvain, because their professor’s mic blared on, and it was time for class to start.

\--

The Anaheim summer sun was insufferable, almost as insufferable as Felix.

“Why is it so _fucking_ hot,” he slammed the door of Mercedes’ minivan shut, and yelled at the clouds.

The drive down to SoCal had been extremely long, and all eight hours of it were filled with Annette’s EDM playlist blasting from her girlfriend’s car speakers. This gave Felix a headache, but his irritation was sated after Mercedes drove them to Raising Canes, since he could drown himself in a box of chicken strips instead of feeling things.

“You’re just too used to the shitty weather in the Bay. _This_ is _paradise_.” Annette sprung from the passenger seat, and stared up at the hotel in front of them, hands on her hips. When Felix continued to sulk, she tackled him in a strangling hug. 

“Come on, don’t even try to tell me that you aren’t excited!”

“Get off! Sweaty...too hot…” Felix grumbled his protests, and she eventually freed him from her grip, instead wrapping her arms around Mercedes.

Felix hoisted his backpack over his shoulder, which seemed tragically underpacked when compared to the girls’ plump suitcases. What was someone supposed to bring to a TikTok convention? In contrast to his usual heaps that he brought for cosplay, Felix had elected to bring nothing but clothes and his toothbrush on this trip.

“Felix, is that all you’ve packed?” Mercedes asked gently, a foil to his edginess.

“Yeah, it’s kind of strange to see, since you usually have bags filled with BDSM belt looking shit, sparkly wigs, long ass knives-” Annette quipped.

“ _Gah,_ ” Felix interrupted, and stomped into the hotel lobby.

All checked in, Annette dramatically swung their hotel room door open, and let out an equally theatrical gasp.

“Now this is swanky! Felix, I didn’t know you were famous enough to get something like _this!_ ”

“I’m not famous. And don’t touch that!” Felix swatted Annette’s arm, which was reaching toward a mini fridge. “Stuff in there probably costs a thousand dollars.”

“Quit being stingy, isn’t your sponsor paying for everything?” Annette pulled the fridge open with her foot, and swiped a bottle of Coke.

“Annie, don’t be selfish,” Mercedes warned, “we’re lucky that Felix even got a room to share with us!” 

Felix sniffed in agreement, but Annette just rolled her eyes, and fell back onto one of the two beds, the comforter clouding her silhouette.

  
  


\--

  
  


“Yeah, I’m leaving my room right now, give me a few minutes.”

Sylvain hung up the call, slipped on his sandals, and gave himself one last look in the hotel bathroom mirror: was his hair too messy? Or did it seem messy to a point where it seemed intentional and overdone? It felt so trivial, but he was about to go downstairs to meet _Claude Riegan_ , for god's sake. 

Claude was a mutual follower of his, and to say that Sylvain admired him was an understatement; his content never followed trends, instead being what set them. Funny, witty, and completely-out-of-pocket videos were his specialty, not to mention that he wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. The two got along swell over text, but having the chance to finally hang out with him in person felt like a dream come true.

“Dimitri, you know where to meet us, I’m going to head out now! Seeya!”

Dimitri, who was drowsily brushing his teeth (having just woken from a nap), gave a wave of acknowledgement.

Shutting the door behind him, Sylvain lightly jogged down the hallway, since he was already a few minutes late.

However, the notion of being any more late completely wiped from his mind, as Sylvain skidded to a halt when he saw _him._

A few doors down from his room, a lithe figure leaned against the wall, absentmindedly poking at his phone. 

He was short, but sinewy muscles peeked out from under his high-neck tank top, indicating he was, without a doubt, _built_. The stark hallway lighting reflected ultraviolet off his pitch black hair, which was pulled into a long fishtail braid. Wisps framed his face and accentuated his high cheekbones, his sharp jaw. 

It was _him._

Sylvain had never thought of men as especially attractive, in comparison to women. Sure, he had accepted a long time ago that he wasn’t completely straight, but he’d never had a real crush on a guy before.

Then again, Sylvain never really had any feelings for girls, either; he couldn’t remember the last time he was in a serious relationship, but the thought alone of being in one terrified him.

Still, there was something different about what Sylvain was feeling in this moment, with Felix Fraldarius: a complete stranger whom he stalked on the internet _._ For him to be just a yard away from him, in the flesh and not translated through a screen...it was something he’d never felt before, a sensation of strange anxiety that bordered on nausea. 

It made him feel vulnerable, and Sylvain _hated_ feeling vulnerable.

He must have been staring, because Sylvain was drop-kicked back to reality when Felix’s eyes were staring into his own.

“Um...hey.”

His eyes darted back and forth uncomfortably, searching for another person in the hallway that Sylvain could’ve been gawking at.

“H-hey!” Sylvain raised his hand, dropped it, and awkwardly brought it back up, forgetting how to greet a fellow human being. Was Felix even human? He wasn’t sure. He settled for reaching his hand out in a handshake, which Felix apprehensively returned with one firm pump at the elbow.

“I’m Sylvain. I uh...I follow your TikTok.” He cast his eyes down and scratched his neck. Why did saying that out loud have to sound so stupid?

Felix must’ve thought it sounded stupid too, because he knit his brows together, appraising Sylvain’s face with a sharp gaze. Then, his eyes widened in shock.

“Fuck. Wait, _you’re…_ ”

“Felix, we’re going out!” Sylvain didn’t get to hear the end of his dreamboy’s sentence, because a girl burst through the door of the room next to Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! updates have been sporadic because school is hard, so i am thankful for you sticking with me!  
> twitter @lordfleasus


	4. it took us three days to make this potato salad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix does not like Sylvain.

Felix braced himself for the scream, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

“SYLVAIN GAUTIER?! Felix, _Felix,_ that is _SYLVAIN_ HOLY _FUCK—”_

Felix clamped his hand over her mouth, but she bit. As he wrung his hand out in pain, cursing, Sylvain Gautier let out a noxious laugh.

“Yeah, that’s me! Howdy!” He flashed a smile as bright as his ruby red curls. 

Was this a nightmare? Yes, it was a nightmare. As Annette continued to squeal, Felix felt the urge to vomit, and retreated back into his hotel room. Mercedes took his return as a sign of something eventful, tilting her head in curiosity, but let out a (albeit less ear-curdling) gasp when Annette dragged Sylvain inside. 

All Felix had wanted was a little bit of peace and quiet, so he had gone into the hallway to respond to the plethora of texts he pretended he hadn't noticed. Of course, fate had decided that was the perfect time for Annette’s self-assigned soulmate to strut into his life.

As it so happened, Sylvain was off to meet up with some other TikTok star whose mention made Annette start screaming again. 

“Yeah, Claude is a great guy! I’m sure he’d be down for more company, if you three would like to come with.”

Of course. Inviting total strangers to dinner. It was just Felix’s luck that he’d be dragged out to a social gathering in the middle of the night. Felix despised social gatherings. However, looking at Annette’s pleading expression, it seemed this wasn’t an event he could back out of.

“Fine, whatever. We’ll go.” 

\--

Claude was even cooler in person, and Sylvain couldn’t help but feel the slightest twinge of jealousy when they spent time together.

From both Dimitri and Sylvain’s new friends alike, Claude was turning heads and pulling laughs like no tomorrow. That is, from everyone but Felix, who kept a sour scowl plastered to his face for most of the night. Even so, Claude managed to get a few smirks from him.

As Sylvain simmered in his green pot of amicable envy, the crew stood gaping at the menu of a boba place. He was able to convince Felix to share an order of spicy fish dango with him, which he saw as an absolute win in his quest to tear down his walls.

That, however, was as far as he was able to get with Felix.

“So...where are you from?” Sylvain ventured.

“Chicago.” Felix replied dryly.

“That’s pretty far from here, right?” Sylvain chided brightly. “I hear it’s pretty cold up there.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But you go to school here in California?”

“Yeah.”

Okay. This was going nowhere fast.

As shameful as it was to admit, it was inexplicably stressful for Sylvain to carry a conversation with someone who _didn’t_ think he was hot shit. He had grown so used to charming his way through different topics, to the point where flirting was almost formulaic; the ease at which Sylvain could turn on and turn off his charm was downright ludicrous.

Either way, Sylvain knew he was in for a challenge when he came after Felix, and a challenge is exactly what he wanted. Felix could make for a pretty fun distraction. Anything went when it came to keeping Sylvain occupied.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that Felix just didn’t want to talk to Sylvain at all, and Sylvain didn’t really know what to do with that. So, he cut his losses and decided to leave Felix alone; Felix didn’t seem interested in him in the slightest, and this wasn’t the first time Sylvain had given up on a pursuit.

Why was it, then, that for the rest of the night from that point onward, Sylvain’s heart squeezed a little every time he caught Felix smiling?

\--

Sylvain Gautier was disgustingly fake.

Everything he did was sickening, even more so than the syrupy pearls that sat congealing at the bottom of his untouched drink. His laugh was nauseating. His small talk, littered with vapid flirtation, made Felix want to vomit. His smile was too bright, and it did not meet his eyes.

That night felt like an eternity in hell, when they were actually in a Tapioca Express. 

Felix stomped down the carpeted corridor to his hotel room, but realized too late that Mercedes was the one with the key. She was many paces behind, listening intently to what was probably another one of Sylvain’s stupid stories. He stood and tapped his foot impatiently, trying very hard to make his mistake look intentional.

The second Mercedes caught up, and the lock flashed green, Felix blasted through the door without so much of a goodbye to his company. He caught a glimpse of Sylvain’s befuddled expression before he slammed the door shut.

“That was not very nice, Felix,” Mercedes admonished.

“That guy! He’s...he’s _infuriating!_ _”_ Felix paced the room, wringing his hands, “and to think that I’m stuck here for a whole week with these weird people, people _like_ him… _him...”_

“Sylvain? He was sweet!” 

She had started unpacking Felix’s things for him, neatly lying out his clothes on his bed before starting on Annette’s suitcase. 

“Besides, you both create very different content, right? The likelihood of you running into him again is very slim—”

“—which is why I am widening that slim chance into a big, fat, guarantee!” Annette interrupted, bouncing onto her bed beside Mercedes. 

_“No._ If you’re seeing him and his himbo pirate friend again, you’re going without me.” Felix spat, unfairly throwing Sylvain’s perfectly polite guest into the mix. 

“Suit yourself! But while you’re busy moping, I’m going to send a snap to my new bestie, Sylvain!” Annette stretched her arm out, phone in hand, and took a selfie, which was without a doubt now in transit to the enemy.

Sighing, Felix gathered his belongings in his arms and walked over to the closet; normally, Felix would’ve allowed his clothes to remain in a heap at the foot of his bed, but the last time he did that on a trip, Mercedes scolded him to no end. 

“I don’t see why you dislike him so fiercely, Felix,” Mercedes ventured, tapping her chin. “It’s not often you judge someone this soon after meeting them.”

She had a point. Felix valued honesty, and usually waited some time to come to a conclusion on the people he met in order to determine his true opinion on them. However, he had his limits.

“He’s so fake! I don’t understand how you all just sat there and let him wrap you around his finger.”

Annette and Mercedes exchanged confused looks.

“Felix, I think you’re just too bent up on him being a TikToker. He’s literally the perfect man!” 

Taken aback, Felix dropped the conversation. Could they really not see it?

He scoffed. Who knows what kind of creeps they’d be chumming it up with without Felix there to protect them?

“Anyways, we’re scheduled to meet up with Sylvain three times in the next two days, so I need you to be on your best behavior, Felix,” Annette said, scrolling through her phone calendar, which was jam-packed with events that Felix would rather die than go to. “Can you promise to give Sylvain another chance? Pleeeease? For me?”

Three was a small number. Felix could withstand the number three.

“Fine.”

—

It seems that the world wasn’t going to let Sylvain give up, because he kept running into Felix and his friends.

The first time was at Claude’s friend Hilda’s meet-and-greet. Sylvain and Felix averaged about 3.5 exchanged words per half hour. When Felix kicked his feet up and rested them on the table they were sitting at, Sylvain didn’t even notice. Surprising, because whenever Dimitri so much as forgets to take off his shoes in their apartment, Sylvain screeches, and Dimitri starts to cry. 

Perhaps Sylvain ignored Felix’s transgression because he was too transfixed by how tightly Felix’s black jeans clung to his muscular calves. This caused a chain reaction of noticing Felix’s toned thighs, Felix’s carved deltoids, Felix’s protruding biceps. 

The second time they ran into each other was at a food truck Sylvain and Annette had agreed to meet up at. He offered Felix a french fry. Felix refused. Fifteen minutes later, he tried asking again. Felix accepted one (1) french fry, and this unlocked the privilege of a conversation. It felt like an enormous victory.

Each time they met, Sylvain found himself more confused about how he felt about Felix. By the third run-in, he couldn’t even _think_ Felix’s name without having a small anxiety attack.

Sylvain was walking out of an event to find his friends chatting animatedly with Annette, Mercedes, and That Man.

“Hi, Sylvain!” Annette beamed, giving him a side hug. “We were just about to leave, but it’s nice to see you!”

Sylvain smiled right back. “Where are you all headed?”

“Oh, just the grocery store. We need some stuff, because at midnight it's Felix’s—”

Felix clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes ablaze. “It’s my nothing. We are going to the store for no reason whatsoever. Goodbye.” He dragged her away into the crowd, and was gone.

Curious. Very curious. Sylvain was curious. 

Claude quirked an eyebrow at the spectacle, but quickly regained focus. ”There you are, Sylvain. I forgot to tell you earlier, but Hilda and I are going clubbing tonight. Do you and Dimitri want to come?” Although he had invited both of them, Claude was looking at Dimitri a little too intensely.

Aw man. Sylvain despised clubbing; clubs were filled with sweaty people and sweaty floors, both of which Sylvain hated. They were also a breeding ground for alcohol-influenced mishaps, which Sylvain preferred to keep contained to college parties.

However, Dimitri was pulling on his arm extremely hard. Dimitri pouted. Dimitri, who had been a repressed Christian boy for the first seventeen years of his life, _loved_ to party.

Sylvain agreed to go. His shoulder might be dislocated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felix's birthday is in the summer now because i said so. actually, it's always summer in southern california, so maybe i didn't change anything after all ;)
> 
> sorry this chapter is quite short, but that's because i actually finished the fic, and in order to split the chapters nicely i had to chop this one up! 
> 
> thank you everyone for all the support! i never thought this would get any attention, since i'm pretty new to fic writing & FE3H, but this has been so much fun to write, and i appreciate the love!!
> 
> twitter @lordfleasus


	5. THREE DAYS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Sylvain talk.

Annette said three times. By the second day of VidCon, it was three times, no more, no less. Annette was a meticulous planner.

But then Felix found himself wanting there to be a fourth time, and it made him want to jump off a cliff. He didn’t jump off a cliff (Anaheim didn’t have many cliffs). He went to his cosplay panel and simply did not think about it.

Okay. Maybe he thought about it a _little_ bit, but that’s only because Felix was trying to understand why he felt this way, like he was being pulled into Sylvain’s gravitational orbit. He and Sylvain had scarcely interacted, and every sentence that came out of his mouth was a brainless one-liner that shouldn’t have strayed past the frat house.

Felix knew that Sylvain wasn’t actually interested in him in the slightest; he’d seen his TikToks, and quickly deduced that Sylvain was a whore. He was the king of whores. His content should be banned from the face of the earth. 

Either way, his odd fixation had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that upon discovering Sylvain a few months prior, Felix has watched every single TikTok he’d posted to this very day, even the ones dating back to 2017. Every single one.

This was one of Felix’s deepest secrets, almost as deep as the secret that his most played song on Spotify is This Day Aria from My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, which he truly believed was a multifaceted masterpiece ahead of its time. He usually told his friends his top song was Mexicola by Queens of the Stone Age (the simplest way to imply he was cool), but told any hot guys he met it was Townie by Mitski (the simplest way to imply he was gay). Neither are even in his top ten most played songs. The rest of his top ten were all anime openings.

Anyways, both of these secrets were ones he was taking beyond the grave and into the ninth ring of hell.

This meant that even Annette didn’t know, and was still under the impression that Felix thought Sylvain was pond scum. Which was true, but...he was _mildly_ _attractive_ pond scum. Despite having seen all of his TikToks, Felix was careful not to leave evidence of his feral obsession, and thus did not like any of his videos, or follow his account, choosing instead to open an incognito window in his phone browser to ravage Sylvain’s content. It was a roundabout process, but at the end of an exhausting day of classes, club meetings, research lab, and workouts, Felix was much too delirious with desire to care. To put it lightly, he did not watch Sylvain’s TikToks for the plot. 

And that was perfectly normal and socially acceptable and not creepy. And absolutely no one, _no one_ could find out, especially now that Sylvain was a very real person in Felix’s life, no longer just a thirsty pipe dream behind a screen.

See? Only thinking about Sylvain a _little_ bit. The panel was going well, and Felix was speaking confidently and clearly to the crowd, until he noticed a shock of red hair by the door.

The Fourth Coming of Sylvain was taking place, the man himself leaning against the doorway, staring up at Felix.

What the _fuck_ was he doing here? This was not his realm; he’s supposed to be with the other hot TikTokers, not the weebs. 

...Wait. _Hot?_ No. Mildly attractive.

Felix snapped out of his thoughts when the mic was handed to him, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be saying. He didn’t want to say anything, because Sylvain was standing in the very same room, and would hear every word. 

Why did Felix care? There were a ton of people in the room, and he had been perfectly fine speaking in front of all of them. Sylvain was no different. Except he was. Why? _Why?_

Felix had bullshitted enough in school to know not to try and bullshit this. “Sorry, could you repeat the question?” 

His voice was raspy, and nothing made sense. This feeling had to be because he drank iced coffee on an empty stomach this morning, and that always made him anxious. That’s why he doesn’t drink coffee. Felix did not drink coffee this morning. Dammit!

The question was about prop building, which was luckily Felix’s bread and butter, so he didn’t have to exert much of us brainpower. This gave his mind enough room to be ballooned with panic over Sylvain’s presence. 

Although the remainder of the panel was only ten minutes long, it felt like an eternity, as if time slowed down every time Felix dared to look in Sylvain’s direction. The second the applause ended, and guests started rising from their seats, Felix bolted for the door. He must have looked mutinous, because the second Sylvain saw him coming, he looked ready to flee.

“What the fuck are _you_ doing here?” Felix hissed. Sylvain pressed his back further into the doorframe, but his sheepish smile remained.

“I just wanted to see you—your panel! It sounded interesting.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re normal. Go away.”

Sylvain made everything worse by laughing. “Normal? Normal people aren’t allowed to enjoy things?” 

Felix was so irritated that he didn’t even realize he and Sylvain were walking out of the hall together. “You know what I mean. Nerd shit. Your content isn’t anything like mine. Why do you even follow me on TikTok?”

Sylvain evaded the question. “Hey now, I can like whatever I want. For all you know, I could be a cosplayer too.”

Sylvain in cosplay. An interesting concept that Felix tucked away for later consideration.

“You’re not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck you.”

Again with the laughing that made Felix want to punch a wall, but this time a bit less viciously. This laugh was kind of cute; it was different from the one he uses in a group, a little more unrestrained, unattractive, and silly. Felix preferred it far more.

The two found an unoccupied patch of wall and sat down together, weary from the day’s events. They watched as crowds walked past, a colorful blur of people from all walks of life. They sat in silence for a bit while Felix chugged his bottle of water. He noticed that Sylvain sat with his hands folded neatly in his lap, contrasting his usual aggressive manspreading. 

Although Sylvain’s personality was egregious, Felix was also at fault for how dreadful their past few encounters had been; it was difficult to not be flustered around the guy he’d been sneakily stalking on his phone for the past few months. As a result, Felix just didn’t know how to talk to Sylvain, being much too boxed up in his own head to hold a conversation.

“Where do you think that guy is from?” Sylvain piped up, pointing at a man about to descend the stairs.

“How on earth do you expect me to know that?” Felix said exasperatedly.

“Do you not make up stories when you people watch?” Sylvain asked, as if it were a perfectly normal thing for a person to do.

“No. Nobody does that.”

“Aw, come on, it’s fun! You can guess a lot about a person from what they look like, how they move, and other superficial stuff like that. That’s how I get to know people.”

Felix scoffed. “You can’t learn a _thing_ about a person from a first impression. That’s just being judgmental.”

“Is that why you’re letting me sit and talk to you? Even though I was absolutely insufferable when we first met?”

“You’re still insufferable.” That earned him an exaggerated pout from Sylvain. Felix pursed his lips, trying his best not to laugh. “But...yeah, I guess you’re not so bad.”

Without warning, Sylvain pumped his fists in the air, sporting a cheesy grin that was void of his usual mischief. Felix’s face grew warm, and his chest wound into knots.

Somehow, those two minutes post-panel turned into two hours, because Felix sat and talked to Sylvain for the remainder of the afternoon. 

Contrary to prior belief, calling Sylvain vapid couldn’t be further from the truth. He liked to ask a lot of questions, and Felix answered with more information than most people unearthed after three years of his friendship. Felix was too enthralled to notice this, continuing to talk Sylvain’s ear off. He talked so much that his throat went hoarse, but he pushed through it so he could keep talking to Sylvain. 

Sylvain was equally talkative, captivating Felix with every word he said. He grew up in Covina, and attended an all-boys private school until he went to college, describing the atmosphere as ‘an oppressive cesspool of bro energy’. He enrolled in university as an Electrical Engineering major (eliciting a sarcastic ‘wooow’ from Felix), but switched to Communications during his third year.

“Electrical Engineering and Communications aren’t remotely related,” Felix remarked. “What made you switch?”

Sylvain bit his lip, and didn’t answer for a while, leading Felix to believe he touched a nerve.

“Sorry, if that’s too invasive, you don’t have to—” 

“No, no it’s fine, I just haven’t talked about it in a while.” He crossed his arms and rapidly tapped his fingers.

“I only pursued engineering because my father would’ve disowned me had I chosen otherwise. Most of my life, up until last spring, was just a series of efforts to keep my dad from getting pissed. I still don’t completely understand why he was so adamant on me becoming an engineer; he’s richer than fucking God. He didn’t need the money.” Sylvain took a deep breath. “I think he just...didn’t like me that much.”

It was a vague statement, and Felix was sure there was a lot more to it, but he didn’t press him on it. 

“So...did he just change his mind about your major?” Felix asked.

Sylvain barked a laugh. “Oh, definitely not. My mom and I left him last spring. She’s loads nicer, and actually gives a shit about me, so she wants me to pursue what I’m actually interested in.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry,” Felix murmured. He had lost a parent too, his mom, but not by choice.

“Nah, it’s fine, my life has improved a _lot_ since then. The downside is that I’ll have to take an extra year to catch up with the requirements for my major. I was accepted for a co-op at a company in San Francisco, so I was granted permission to do a transfer year at UC Berkeley, since it’s close by.”

Felix’s stomach plummets through the floor.

Oh. UC Berkeley. UC Berkeley sure is a school. A school that Felix attends.

“Huh. That’s, uh...a school. In the Bay Area,” Felix stammers. He’s started to sweat, and wasn't because he was wearing all black in 100 degree heat. Okay, maybe partly because of that. Telling Sylvain that they would be attending the same school next year would imply that they would see each other again, and seeing each other again implies hanging out, something that Felix desperately wanted to do, but was keen on pretending he didn’t.

“Yeah! You said that you and Annette go to school in the bay, right? What school do you attend?” 

Fortunately, a call from Annette pulled him back into the rest of the world, and out of his predicament.

“Sorry, uh, I gotta go. I’ll...see you later?” As badly as he didn’t want to believe it, Felix really did want to see Sylvain later. 

Sylvain looked a bit disappointed, but perked back up quickly. “Yeah, for sure! Seeya, Felix.” He headed in the other direction with a wave, his red curls disappearing in the crowd.

Felix. That _is_ his name, and people wore it out often. Why did it sound so much better when Sylvain said it? 

—

The fifth time Sylvain met up with Felix was for lunch the next day, since they happened to get out of a panel at the same time, and their other friends were busy. Sylvain elected not to tell Felix that he wasn’t actually a part of the panel he had attended, having just walked into a random one so that their lunchtimes would magically coincide. It was only a little bit creepy.

Felix wanted to go to Raising Canes, a restaurant chain Sylvain had been to one-hundred and eighty-two times. He didn’t mind. He liked chicken, and he liked Felix.

Similar to the last time they met, they sat and chatted as if they’d known each other for years. Sylvain didn’t even talk like this with his own friends, and they sure as hell didn’t make him feel this excited, either. 

They also were not as blunt as Felix.

“Does your mom know you’re gay?”

Sylvain choked on his Sprite. “Wh-what? How did you know I’m—what made you think I’m...what?”

“You’re wearing a gay people shirt. It’s kind of obvious.”

It was true. Sylvain’s short-sleeved, collared button-down, with a bright (TASTEFUL) color block pattern and cuffed sleeves, was the quintessential bisexual garment. He thought he was being subtle.

“Damn, you’re good.” Felix really wasn’t. Every queer person has that shirt. “But...no. I probably won’t ever tell her.” Sylvain chuckled, but it tapered into a sigh.

“Is she not down with that?” 

“I don’t know. I feel like she’d be okay after a while, but...it would just be so much easier for me to just find some girl and get married and never have to tell her, you know?” 

Sylvain had never told anyone this. It scared him enough to say the one-syllable word ‘bi’ out loud. Explaining his fear of coming out was even more difficult; his mom had been through enough shit, and he didn’t want to burden her with this. He was already enough of a burden on his own, with his faltering grades and constant sleeping around.

“I guess I kind of get that. When I came out, my dad was really pissed about it for a whole month, so I moved out when I transferred from community college. I haven’t gone home for about a year. My dad said he’s fine now and keeps asking me to come back, but I kind of don’t want to.” Felix thrummed his fingers on the table. “I know it’s kind of a dick move.”

“I don’t think so. You have a right to not go home to a potentially unwelcome environment. It’s okay to still be upset about something like that,” Sylvain chided.

Felix raised his eyebrows. “You’re the first person to ever say that. All of my friends tell me I should go visit and make up with him.”

That made Sylvain a bit angry. “If you’re not ready to apologize, then you don’t have to. It’s your choice. It’s your life, and your happiness should come first. Others don’t get to dictate how a situation affected you.”

For a moment, Felix’s face went blank. It was replaced with a genuine grin, and Sylvain started sweating. Because the sun. Not Felix. The sun is hot.

“Thanks. That means a lot. I doubt myself a lot when it comes to my feelings,” Felix murmured, before snarling, “do not tell _anyone_ I said that. I don’t have feelings.”

Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I promise I won’t. But I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me that. I like talking to you.”

Oops. That L-word is just as bad as the other L-word in Sylvain’s book. Before he could backtrack, Felix responded with a small smile.

“I like talking to you too. This week has been nice.”

Sylvain was perspiring at a rate that couldn’t be healthy. It didn’t help that his heart was pumping at 300 miles per hour, making him even warmer. Sunburn. It’s a sunburn. He is burning.

“Are you okay?” Felix asked, concerned. Fuck. Sylvain couldn’t handle someone L-wording him _and_ caring about his well being in the same day.

“Y-yeah! It’s just kind of hot, do you wanna go back inside?”

“We _are_ inside.”

They _were_ inside. They had been sitting inside Raising Canes this entire time.

“Outside. Outside? Can we go outside?” He laughed nervously.

Outside was even hotter, but Felix didn’t mention it, to Sylvain’s relief. On the walk back to the convention center, Felix hopped from foot to foot, trying to step on all the fallen leaves on the sidewalk. Every time he encountered a leaf that looked crunchy, but wasn’t, he yelled in frustration, which Sylvain somehow found extremely endearing.

“My brother used to do that,” Sylvain blurted. He didn’t know what made him say that. He had kept Miklan buried deep in the furthermost cavern of his mind for years.

“You didn’t tell me you have a brother,” Felix noted. He cast his eyes down, deftly dribbling a rock between his feet.

“Uh, had. Had a brother.” Sylvain muttered dryly. He didn’t know where he was going with this, but knew it wouldn’t end well. The thought of him was already making his blood boil.

“Oh. I understand.”

Man, fuck that sentence. Sylvain heard that sentence all the time.

“No, you really don’t,” he snapped. “He’s dead to me.”

“I kind of do. My brother’s dead. Really dead.”

Sylvain already regretted the words the second they burst from his mouth, but hearing that made his heart sink deeper. He stopped in his tracks, and looked at Felix, whose face was completely blank.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Felix’s tone was flat. However, Sylvain must have looked pretty shaken, because his face softened. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He clasped Sylvain’s hands and squeezed them gently. Sylvain became hyperaware: Felix’s hands were a little clammy, and a little calloused. This is the first time they’ve touched.

When they started walking again, Sylvain couldn’t come up with anything to say, his head still reeling from the relatively intimate moment. Felix’s cheeks were flushed pink. They remained silent until they reached the convention center.

Sylvain found himself extremely reluctant to part ways, but Felix needed to meet up with his friends. He wanted, no, _needed_ to see Felix again, but didn’t know how he could manage that without directly asking him out, knowing he couldn’t possibly handle a rejection.

Well, there was one way.

“Hey, Felix,” Sylvain called out. Felix turned around, his ponytail whipping behind him.

“I, uh, have a thing tonight. An improv show. With some other people. Tonight at six. I just wanted to let you know, in case your friends wanted to come. And you.”

For a Communications major, Sylvain’s communication skills with Felix were abysmal. Either way, his message came across well enough.

“Oh. That’s cool. I’ll tell Annette and Mercedes.”

As if blessed with magically augmented hearing capabilities, the two girls came down the hallway. Sylvain greeted them with a wave, but noticed that Felix had gone pale, even paler than he already was. He looked terrified.

Before Sylvain could ask him what was up, Annette tackled the two in a bear hug (albeit a very small bear, an adolescent cub at most). 

“We just came from the loveliest expo on cottagecore!” Mercedes said dreamily. 

“Yeah! We’ve decided to move to Wyoming and live happily ever after in a wooden house with our five pet deer,” Annette explained. “What have you two been up to?” 

“Nothing. Let’s go.” Felix shouldered out of the embrace and tried to bolt, but Annette had him in a vice grip. Why did he look so nervous?

“Don’t be a bitch. We literally have nothing time sensitive for the rest of the day. Sylvain, do you have plans?” Annette’s voice was astonishingly steady, considering she and Felix were currently in a wrestling deathmatch. This must happen frequently.

“I actually have a show tonight, if you two ladies wanted to come,” said Sylvain, to which Annette and Mercedes gave an enthusiastic nod. “Also, nice shirt! I’m transferring there next year.”

Being freed from the hug, Sylvain had noticed that Annette was wearing a UC Berkeley shirt.

“We’re late. We have to go _now.”_ Felix pulled even more insistently, but Annette pretended he just wasn’t there.

“Wait, you’re joking! Me and Felix actually—”

 _“ANNETTE!”_ Felix hissed, the closest thing to a whine Sylvain had heard from him. His brows were knit, eyes panicked and pleading with a matching pout, and it would be a lie to say Sylvain didn’t find it cute.

“What the _hell_ is your deal?! Go ahead and go by yourself, damn,” Annette grumbled. As soon as she let him out of her grip, Felix disappeared with such immediacy that he might’ve simply evaporated. 

“Sorry, I literally don’t know what’s wrong with him today,” Annette started, but Sylvain assured her with a wave. “Anyways, I’m actually a junior studying Cell Biology there! I can’t believe we’ll be at the same school next year!

It didn’t take long for Sylvain to put two and two together, and when he did, his brain cracked like an egg.

“Wait...does that mean Felix is also…?” He was in too much of a trance to complete the sentence.

“Yup! He studies Applied Math, and is working on a minor in Education. He doesn’t like it when I tell people this, but he wants to eventually become a kindergarten teacher! Isn’t that so funny? _Felix,_ of all people? That’s why I tell everyone I know.”

It wasn’t funny. It was fucking _adorable._ Sylvain’s head was swimming with so many questions and daydreams that he couldn’t hear anything Annette had said after ‘teacher’. 

“Huh. Wow. That’s...that’s interesting,” he murmured.

He must have had the stupidest look on his face, because Mercedes giggled, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Felix can be very soft, but is shy about showing that side to people. That’s likely why he didn’t want you to know!”

Felix was shy. And soft. Felix was shy and soft and he wanted to be a teacher. A baby teacher. A teacher for babies. The same Felix that verbally insulted leaves that weren’t crunchy. The same Felix that ‘did not have feelings’. On top of all of that, Felix was studying Teaching For Babies at the same exact school Sylvain will be at for an entire year.

Studying with Felix at a cafe. Running into Felix on campus and exchanging a smile. Eating lunch with Felix. Going to parties with Felix. Getting to see Felix _every damn day._

Sylvain was about to pass out.

“I see.” He saw. “Well, hah, I don’t want to keep you ladies too long, so I’ll—”

His voice trailed off, noticing that Annette and Mercedes were exchanging very knowing, very naughty looks. 

“Actually, Sylvain...Annie, Felix, and I had plans to go get ice cream. That is, before he ran out on us,” Mercedes murmured. “Judging from how fast he runs, he’s likely already at the shop. Would you like to join us?”

Annette chimed in. “I’m sure Felix would absolutely _love_ to tell you about his studies. And the children's tutoring club he’s the vice president of. And his breakdancing team. And his weightlifting Instagram acc—” 

Annette wasn’t even finished with her list when Sylvain linked arms with the two girls, and proceeded to walk faster than he'd ever walked in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sylvain's shirt](https://gloimg.zafcdn.com/zaful/pdm-product-pic/Clothing/2019/12/30/goods-first-img/1593482355443448673.jpg)
> 
> thank you all for continuing on this funky journey with me! it was fun to make modern sylvix's backstories based on the hodgepodge of people i know, as well as my own experiences.
> 
> also i have a [stupidass sylvain playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1gmVg8a9cfnuJm7JvqZndD?si=i7MOYd1XQrq2xLo4eDFrfw) i listen to when i write fic


	6. retrospect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix has a bad time: everyone is being annoying, and they're making him eat ice cream.
> 
> Content warning: Discussion of Glenn's death (non-explicit)

Thanks to some meddling skanks, Sylvain now knew about all of Felix’s embarrassing hobbies, and he had to delete his weightlifting progress account as a result. The cherry on top of it all was that they were making him eat things that had a cherry on top. At least one of the ice cream flavors had salt in it. It was still bad.

Mercedes had left for the bathroom. There was an obnoxious clattering noise, the one that’s unique to a phone vibrating on a metal table.

“Give me one hot second, ladies and gent, I’ve gotta take this real quick,” Sylvain snapped his fingers and pointed at the phone, now in his hand. When he left through the jingling doors, Felix was left alone with Annette and her mischievous stare.

He sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, you know…” she stretched exaggeratedly. “You’re seducing my man.”

“I’m _not—”_

“And to think that you almost barred us from coming here! Imagine if we hadn’t; right now we would be sitting at a table in the library, staring at our laptop screens so we think that each other is working, but we’re really just cycling from our email tab to Facebook to—”

_“Annette.”_

Felix’s voice had adopted a low, serious tone, so Annette cut her rambling. He rested his chin on his closed fist, and stared out the window.

He murmured, “I don’t understand him.” 

Annette pursed her lips, eyes downcast in thought. “You said that before, too. I don’t get it, but if you say so, I believe you.”

Felix sighed. “I don’t know why people have to be so confusing. Why don’t people just say what they mean and get over it?”

Annette raised her eyebrows. “You’re not immune to that either, Felix.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m honest. I say what I mean,” he leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms, “and I’ve had no problems thus far.”

“Well...I can think of one.”

Of course. Of course she was going to bring this up. All roads lead back to the same end.

“Jesus, you _always_ bring this shit up. That’s not even important. It literally has nothing to do with any of this,” he huffed.

“Felix, come _on,”_ Annette pleaded, “you can’t avoid your dad forever. It’s eating away at you. I can tell.”

“What do _you_ know?” He snapped. “I don’t need him. Everything is fine. I don’t want to talk about this.”

“But you push the topic away every single time. You’re going to push it away today, and tomorrow, and for the rest of your life if you don’t stop being afraid—” 

Felix interrupted, “I’m not afraid of that spineless excuse for a man. I don’t want to go back because he’s pissed I’m gay.”

Annette’s appraising eyes softened with worry. “Come on, Felix. You know the _real_ reason.”

He did.

“I can’t be around him. Not after what he said,” he muttered, voice low with mirth. “He’s not my father.”

Annette bowed her head. “One day he’ll be gone, Felix, and you’ll wish you reconciled. You’ll spend the rest of your life wondering about him.” She twiddled her thumbs. “Trust me on that.”

Felix breathed in deep, then rubbed harshly at his face. “I really don’t want to keep talking about this. Please.”

She considered his words, then nodded slowly. “I’m just worried, Felix. I love you, and I know you’re hurting,” she smiled sadly, “but if this is what you need, I’ll give it to you.”

He didn’t respond. Well, how do you even respond to something like that? Thankfully, Annette understood Felix’s habits, and his small nod was enough for her to understand his reciprocation. She was right. He had a lot to work on, and a lot to figure out about himself.

Shortly after their conversation, Sylvain and Mercedes returned. The crew got ready to head out, but someone entered through the door before they could exit. Someone Felix knew.

All roads really do lead back to the same end, it seems, but Felix wanted to steer into the barricade and coast down to the sea.

\--

“Is that miss Ingrid Brandl Galatea?” Sylvain gasped incredulously. “Fancy seeing you here in sunny Anaheim!”

“I live here, dolt.” Despite the insult, Ingrid grinned and gave him a warm hug. Sylvain met Ingrid at a terrible frat party his sophomore year, after socking a guy in the mouth when he was getting a little too handsy with her. That was, of course, after Ingrid had kneed him in the crotch. Sylvain was just backup. They became fast friends.

When she let go, her eyes drifted over Sylvain’s shoulder, and all the blood drained from her face.

“...Felix?” It was almost a whisper.

Sylvain whipped around and indeed saw Felix, who turned away, his lips pursed in a scowl. 

“Hi.”

Ingrid stared, mouth agape, for a few more seconds before swallowing, and clearing her throat. “It’s been...a long time. Uh, five years?”

“Six,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands were balled into fists, and he still wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

Ingrid’s eyes were glassy, and she looked ready to burst. “Felix, I’m so sorr—”

“Don’t.” Felix pushed past his friends and made for the back door, and Ingrid ran after him. Sylvain made to follow, but Mercedes clasped him on the arm, her expression pensive.

“Let’s give them some time.”

Still dazed, Sylvain followed the girls out, and leaned against the worn brick wall of the parlor, hands in his pockets. The evening sun cast the three in a halo of gold. Annette clasped her hands, worrying the skin of her lip, contemplating. When she did not speak, Sylvain took initiative.

“I didn’t know they knew each other. Small world.” He ran a hand through his hair, the pomade leaving a waxy residue on his palm.

Annette nodded slowly. “Yeah, she went to our high school. She used to...she dated Felix’s brother, Glenn, for a few years.”

“Oh. Is that the brother that, uh…”

“Yes. He passed about two months ago.”

Sylvain inhaled sharply. “Wait, _two months_ ago? That’s so recent...is Felix alright?”

At that, Annette smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. “I wish I knew. Felix just won’t talk about it, no matter how hard I try. He tends to be like that, bottling things up and acting like everything is normal. He doesn’t like talking about his feelings. But…there’s something there. I know he’s hurting, but I feel like there’s nothing I can do to help him.”

“Everyone grieves in their own way, Annie. It seems you may just need to be patient with Felix,” Mercedes suggested. “I remember that when I heard about Emile, I didn’t speak about it to anyone for a long time...not even my mother.”

Annette hummed in agreement. “That’s right. You’ve lost a brother too, Mercie.” She looped a hand around her waist.

When Miklan was arrested, Sylvain had simply carried on. However, on top of the existing stacks and stacks of anxiety and insecurity and trauma he had piled up in his heart, adding this tipped the scales. To ‘carry on’ required redistributing his priorities, so Sylvain threw himself out. 

‘Carrying on’ now meant reveling in the gossip about how many women he’d slept with during homeroom, and whoever came next. It meant piling on responsibilities and deadlines that he demanded himself to handle, then crashing and burning when the turbulence was unsurmountable. It meant tracing the pink ribbons up and down his body, in mourning of the death his brother had guaranteed him time and time again. However, the shade of his artifice was enough to keep people from looking inside, and seeing how absolutely and irreversibly fucked up he was. 

They didn’t deserve his explanation, and he did not deserve their love. He did not deserve anything.

To this day, the method works quite well. And, so it seems, it works well for Felix.

“Syl.”

Ingrid appeared at his left. Felix was leaning against the wall a number of feet away.

“Hey! It was nice running into you,” Sylvain plastered a smile to his face. “I’ve got a show tonight at six. Want to come?”

Ingrid smiled wearily. “I get enough of your drama at school, but I’ll try to make it.” Sylvain’s smile melted into an easy one, and he pulled Ingrid in for a parting hug. He expected her to leave after that, but she stood firm, and looked him in the eye.

“Syl,” she sighed, “I don’t know how or why you know Felix, but...if you’re doing what I think you’re doing, don’t. Please.”

At that, Sylvain felt his heart freeze over. He looked over to Felix. His silhouette glowed in the setting sun.

“I know you think I’m an asshole, but I’m not doing anything like that. I promise.”

“I don’t think that about you. You’re nothing like that. I just—”

“Aren’t I, though?” Sylvain interrupted, his grin venomous. “I’ll catch you later, Ingrid.”

Ingrid opened her mouth to retort, but knew better than to fight with Sylvain when he was like this. She squeezed his hand for a moment, then turned on her heel and started down the sidewalk toward the horizon. 

A dull thunk and a frustrated grunt brought Sylvain’s attention back to Felix, who had dropped his phone on the pavement. He froze halfway between picking up when he noticed Sylvain was looking at him. Then, he swiped it up and acted like nothing had happened, squinting grumpily at the screen. Sylvain slid along the wall until he was a foot away.

Felix’s eyes glanced up for a split second. “Hey,” he grunted.

“Howdy.”

“You’re not a cowboy.” He mumbled this, but a smirk pulled at the corners of his lips.

“Well, Mitski told me to Be The Cowboy, so that’s as good as—”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Felix’s nose scrunched as he laughed, a full and breathless laugh that Sylvain wished he could catch and keep it in a jar, like a firefly. It was contagious enough to get him guffawing like an idiot. Felix turned so he faced Sylvain, his shoulder pressed into the wall, arms crossed.

For a while, Sylvain just stood and looked at Felix, and Felix stared straight back, biting his lip. Sylvain didn’t press, and he didn’t ask. He just waited patiently, wanting Felix to know he always had a choice.

“I, uh…” Felix winced, and tore his eyes away. “Uh...Annette wanted more ice cream, since I took so long. She and Mercedes are inside.”

He didn’t want to talk about what had just happened between him and Ingrid, didn’t want to explain himself, and that was perfectly okay. Sylvain was good at being distracting. 

“Annette really likes sweets, huh?” Sylvain scratched his head, smiling. “I can relate to that. If you drive out a few miles from here, there’s a really funky candy sh—”

“Are you not going to ask me what the hell just happened?” Felix gritted out, his eyes downcast. 

“Well, would you like to talk about it?” Sylvain suggested.

Felix was fuming, and finally looked up. “No, actually, I don’t. I don’t want to talk about it, and I’m tired of everybody fucking _demanding_ shit from me. That’s two times someone’s brought it up today. My brother got his fucking brains blown out and they want to hear what I fucking _think_ about it? That I...like I _owe…”_

Felix trailed off, his cheeks red and his brows knit in anger. Sylvain waited. 

“You’re right. You don’t owe anyone anything. I just wanted to give you the option to talk about it if you wanted to.” 

He reached out tentatively, and after a moment of consideration, Felix shyly hooked his index finger with his. “So, if you want to, I’m more than willing. If you don’t want to, that’s fine all the same.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’m a versatile guy.”

Felix remained quiet, his panting slowing. His eyes glanced down at their hands, then back up to Sylvain, then back down. He walked the rest of his fingers through Sylvain’s and clasped their hands properly, drawing their bodies closer. Sylvain could feel his heartbeat climbing up his throat. 

With his free hand, he traced his fingers up the seam of Felix’s shirt before curling them around his waist, gently pressing into his back to close their distance. Felix’s other arm, which was now awkwardly scrunched between them, snaked up Sylvain’s chest, coming to rest over his shoulder. Sylvain was not sure which heartbeat was his own anymore.

_He doesn’t like talking about his feelings._

Sylvain released Felix’s hand, and used it to tilt his chin upward so they were face to face. He took him in, staring unabashedly at the wisps of dark hair that framed his face. The dimpled acne scarring along his temple. The brow hairs that strayed a little from their place. The open scar on his lip, likely because he bit it so often. 

Eyes that made the earth turn a bit more slowly.

In the twenty-two years of his life, Sylvain had encountered many moments worth cherishing. Not a single one held a candle to this, this wonderstruck moment where he’d found the first person in his life he wanted desperately to deserve. Deserve to want, deserve to need, deserve to hold. 

He felt Felix’s breath on his lower lip, and the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheek.

Deserve to kiss. 

The jingle of the door. “Oh boooooooys! Time to head out!”

Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long gap between the last chapter and this one! there were some things i wanted to rework, but didn't have time to because school. also, from here on out, i think i will be elongating chapters because i don't want to make this into too many chapters! updates should be sooner now too!


	7. party rock is in the hoooouse toniiiite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix is ready to party. Sylvain is not.

Okay. Sylvain was not only very attractive, but also interesting and kind, and Felix was not only very wrong, but also wrong and wrong. Also, he was 99% sure that Sylvain was about to kiss him just a few hours ago. But he was also 99% sure that he wasn’t. That adds up, right? Felix is a math major.

Either way, Felix was pretty pissed about the whole situation. This entire week had been filled with the most confusing happenstances, all of which unearthed feelings that he had buried deep for years. Feelings that made his heart race, that made his face flush. 

It sucked. But at the same time, it felt strangely wonderful; every time they spoke, he had found himself feeling happier about being at VidCon, because he knew Sylvain would be there each day. He was even kind of sort of _maybe_ looking forward to seeing his improv show tonight. Nobody needed to know that. Who said that?

Did Felix have a _crush?_

Absolutely not. 

Unfortunately, he was wrong. This was confirmed the minute he and his friends sat down in the theater. 

Sylvain’s stage presence was beyond compare, overshadowing every other actor on stage. He made it look _so_ easy, as if he was born to pretend. He commanded the attention of every single person in the room, an invisible spotlight shining down on him.

It didn’t help that Sylvain was extremely funny. Although Felix’s abs were already rock solid (damn right), his sides and stomach were sore from laughing. His left shoulder was also sore, but that’s because Annette had slapped him every time she fell into a fit of laughter. This happened each time Sylvain spoke, and he spoke for the entire skit. However, this was the same case for everyone else in the crowd; Felix caught a glimpse of Claude a few seats away, who was laughing so hard that he was crying. Wimp.

Then there’s that other thing. Felix finally accepted that Sylvain was more than just _mildly attractive_. Sylvain was fucking _hot,_ and that was so completely alright and cool and he didn’t need to talk about it with anyone ever because it _simply_ _wasn’t true._ He wasn’t admiring how the theater lights reflected off of his tan, freckled skin, his silhouette glowing. Or how he could see how long, curly, and red his eyelashes were from yards away. Or how Sylvain kept the first three buttons of his shirt unbuttoned, and Felix could see things. Nice things. Nobody had to know, and hopefully after tonight’s festivities, Felix wouldn’t remember either.

Following the show, Annette insisted on waiting in the lobby with Sylvain’s friends to congratulate him. Gaggles of people chatted animatedly about the show, about Sylvain’s performance in particular. Felix twitched, and found himself upset that other people were enjoying Sylvain. He wanted to be the only one allowed to enjoy Sylvain.

Wait, what the _fuck?_ Felix tried to think of the most annoying song he knew to push that thought out of his head.

“Jeez, that was probably the hardest I’ve ever laughed in my life,” Claude chuckled, leaning into Sylvain’s big blonde man. What was his name again? Jeff?

“Dimitri, what did you think?” Ah. Pretty close.

“It was amazing! I haven’t seen that side of Sylvain for years.”

Side? Years? Just as these thoughts popped in Felix’s mind (and Annette’s because they shared one brain), Dimitri’s eye widened with the realization that he’d said too much.

“What do you mean ‘that side of Sylvain’, Dimitri?” Annette prodded, brow knit with confusion.

“Uh...er...well, let’s just say Sylvain is a multifaceted individual. I don’t think I should—”

“Multifaceted? I don’t know the meaning of the word!”

Sylvain burst between Dimitri and Claude, an arm slung over each of their shoulders. “No, really, what does it mean? I genuinely don’t know.” He was playing dumb, and it was infuriating.

The second the rest of the group dissolved into laughter and praise, Felix’s great mood went sour, and he didn’t quite understand why. For some reason, he found himself back at square one: extremely annoyed by Sylvain’s presence.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Felix stomped ahead of everyone when they walked out the doors of the theater. When he spotted Sylvain, jogging to catch up with him, out of the corner of his eye, Felix widened his stride. 

It turns out Sylvain’s leg length canceled out Felix’s brooding power walk, because he matched his pace quickly.

“Hi, Felix! I’m really glad you came.” Sylvain greeted softly, a giddy smile on his face.

Felix’s brain skidded to a halt, and his feet nearly followed. Was he being crazy, or did Sylvain’s personality just do a 180 from bothersome fuck to pleasant pal? To the guy Felix had been fawning over (super silently and unnoticeably) all week?

That couldn’t be right. Felix did not let his steps slow.

“Annette really wanted to come. I go where she goes.” He muttered, sounding disinterested.

Sylvain’s smile went a little slack, but remained shyly on his lips. Felix was absolutely not looking at Sylvain’s lips. “Oh, okay. That makes sense. But anyways...what did you think?” 

Well, what _did_ he think? Although Sylvain was seemingly honest and open at the moment, Felix wasn’t ready to be the same. In fact, he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready, especially if he had been reading Sylvain’s intentions wrong this entire week. If today’s earlier events didn’t mean anything after all.

“It was okay, I guess,” Felix said gruffly, electing to stare straight ahead. As a result, he did not see how far Sylvain’s face plummeted. 

“O-oh. Okay. Okay is okay,” Sylvain was starting to speak a little too quickly. “Sorry, I’m not really making sense. Also, sorry if the show wasn’t really great, I know the whole improv thing is kinda stupid, yeah…”

Felix cut his yammering short, genuinely confused at what Sylvain was getting at. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I just feel like...maybe you didn’t really like it, yeah? And that’s kind of my fault because I was the guy, well, doing the thing. I’m just really sorry if I wasted your time?” Sylvain looked and sounded panicked, nothing like Felix had ever seen before. His voice quavered like he might cry.

“What the hell?” Felix had meant to keep this in his head, but he was so appalled that he blurted it out. “Whether I had a good time or not isn’t your responsibility. Why would you even think that?”

“I mean, I’m kind of an entertainer, right? If I’m not good at what I do, then what’s the point? I’m just letting people down.” Sylvain’s smile was more of a grimace.

The two had stopped walking completely, but were far enough ahead of their friends to make up for it. 

“Sylvain.” At the mention of his name, Sylvain shied away. Felix wasn’t having any of that, so he stepped to the side to meet his gaze. 

“Sylvain. Your worth doesn’t have shit to do with what people think of you. You know that, right?”

For a sliver of a second, Sylvain stared straight back at Felix, shocked. Immediately after, however, he was back to being a completely different person, and Felix knew he hadn’t been imagining things. 

“Of course I know that, Fe.” Felix winced at the nickname. “Just wanna give it my all, ya know?” He laced his hands behind his head and grinned, too bright, and too wide.

“Great. Bye.” Felix had had enough of this bullshit. He quickly rounded the corner and into the hotel, ignoring Sylvain’s call from far behind him. Upon reaching his room, he faceplanted on his bed and screamed into the comforter.

Felix felt like he was drowning, feeling so confused as to why Sylvain kept switching up on him, and wondered if the Sylvain he liked was just a facade, and wasn’t actually interested in Felix in the slightest. This is why he doesn’t have crushes: men are irritating, strange, and disappointing. Felix ignored that he was, in fact, also a man. Also, ‘crush’ was a stupid term that shouldn’t be used to refer to such a stupid feeling, and should have stayed a verb regarding destruction and smashing. Was there anything in this hotel room he could smash right now?

Felix glanced around, saw an empty Coke can on the nightstand, and crushed it against the wall with an open palm and a grunt, because he was just that strong and awesome. What wasn’t awesome, however, was the trickle of Coke down Felix’s hoodie sleeve, because the can hadn’t been empty after all.

That was the final straw. Tonight, Felix was turning 21, and he was ready to get fucking trashed.

— 

As much as Sylvain liked Claude and everyone else he’d met over the past few days, he was _not_ in the mood to go clubbing anymore. He hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place.

Dimitri wasn’t having any of that.

“Sylvain, _please_ come! We’ll have so much fun,” he cried out, tangled in his shirt, which he was somehow failing to remove. Dimitri was very lucky that he was handsome.

“You’ll have just as much fun without me, Dima,” Sylvain walked over and pulled the shirt up and over his friend’s head, “besides, if I’m not there, that forces you to talk to Claude more.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Dimitri went beet red.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” he lied, pulling on a tight black t-shirt that accentuated how ridiculously ripped he was; Dimitri never _ever_ wore that shirt in public, because he thought it was ‘too racy’. Dimitri had an ulterior motive and he knew it. What a dirty boy.

“Regardless, what would you even do while we’re all gone? Everybody is going.”

Sylvain hadn’t thought that part through; he had been too busy replaying the pitiful events of the last half hour in his head to come up with a plan. It didn’t even matter, because any plan he could come up with wouldn’t have Felix as part of it. Then again, the thought of seeing Felix again after what just happened terrified Sylvain. It was all so befuddling.

“I’ll just go to bed, I’ve had a long day.” He yawned to prove his point.

Unfortunately, Dimitri knew Sylvain too well. He walked over to Sylvain’s bed and sat beside him.

“You’re shutting down. It’s not good to close yourself off to people, Sylvain. You know that.”

He _did_ know that; Dimitri has been therapizing Sylvain for most of their lives, even when both got actual therapists. They knew each other better than the backs of each others’ hands. Still, there were some things Sylvain just couldn’t ever explain to his best friend, such as why he was feeling the way he was. It would be easier to just agree at this point, since he knew Dimitri wouldn’t budge, and would make him explain himself. Sylvain was much too afraid to do that.

Then again, if not now, when? If ever? 

Sylvain swallowed his fear, trying to ignore his heart beating in his throat. “I messed up, Dimitri. And I keep messing up, and I don’t know how to stop.”

Dimitri nodded his head slowly, deep in thought. “Can you explain what you mean?”

“It’s just that...there’s this person I really like, and love talking to, but whenever they try to get closer, my brain goes on autopilot. I start acting like a dick and say things that I _think_ are right in the moment, but immediately regret them after. I think I’m just so used to people only liking me when I’m fun and seem to be doing well, that the idea of being vulnerable around someone...really scares me.”

Sylvain took in a deep breath. He felt somewhat relieved, since he trusted Dimitri more than anyone else, but it was still difficult to find the right words to tell him all that he did.

After pondering for a moment, Dimitri said slowly, “My father used to tell me to never have any regrets, because at one point in time, those regrets were exactly what you wanted.”

“See, but that’s the thing, Dima. I don’t _want_ to be disingenuous. I just can’t help myself because I’m so fucking afraid of getting rejected if I’m not what he wants, or if I do trust him and it’s a mistake, or—”

“You can’t predict that you’ll regret trusting this person, or any person. Trust is always a risk.”

“Yeah, I know, I know, I just... _agh.”_ Sylvain rubbed at his eyes and sighed, before putting on a weary smile. “You’re all I’ve got, buddy.”

Dimitri didn’t return the smile. “It shouldn’t be that way. I’m sure this person remains in your company because you’re _you._ Certainly not because they want to take advantage of you, or mock you, or anything that I know you’re likely thinking.” 

He placed a hand on Sylvain’s shoulder. “Is it so hard to believe that you deserve love?”

For a moment, Sylvain was still. Then, without warning, he pulled Dimitri into a tight hug.

“It’s hard. It’s really hard. But...not as hard as before. Thanks, Dima.”

Dimitri returned the hug without breaking a single one of Sylvain’s bones, pressing his chin into his shoulder. When they parted, Sylvain leapt to his feet.

“I feel a lot better, so if you want me to go, we’d better go now before I change my mind and start moping again.” At this, Dimitri smiled excitedly, and tossed Sylvain his hair pomade from the bedstand, which he surprisingly caught.

“But I need to borrow a shirt, since I didn’t bring anything sexy enough for the club. Your shit is huge on me, so it’ll give me tasteful sideboob, and I wanna look like a slut tonight.”

“You always look like a slut.”

“Shut up.”

— 

“Oh, Annie, what’s this?”

The three goons of Team Felix were lounging in their hotel room, feet too blistered to walk around the convention for the rest of the evening. Turning his head back to Mercedes, Felix looked at the garment she held in her hands. 

Well, if you could even _call_ it a garment. Mercedes was brandishing a slinky pair of fishnet stockings, jet black and wiry against her delicate hands.

“This isn’t your style in the slightest.”

A sly grin slid onto Annette’s face. “They’re not for me.”

She rolled her head around to face Felix, who scuttled backwards into the wall, eyes wide in terror.

“Well, they sure as hell aren’t for _me_ either,” he snarled. “Why do you have those?!”

Head thrown back in a laugh, Annette smiled at him, as if the answer were obvious. She picked a few more things out from her belongings, and held them up next to the fishnets: a black crop top, and a series of belts.

“It’s part of your birthday outfit, silly! Don’t tell me you forgot about your own birthday, Felix?”

He hadn’t. He had been distracting himself with the very thing for the past half hour.

“There is absolutely _no_ way you’re getting me to wear any of that. Besides, we aren’t even celebrating it. We’re at a con. Can’t we just get drunk in here? In my sweatpants?”

Annette drew herself to her full height (unimpressive), her hands on her hips. “That’s where you’re wrong, buddy! I’ve had this planned out for centuries, and there is no way we’re going to spend your 21st birthday holed up in this room with a handle of Jose Cuervo!”

Felix winced at the word ‘planned’; the last time he was subject to one of Annette’s ‘plans’, he woke up lying in the creek running beneath his college plaza with a bong in one hand, and someone else’s shoes in the other. Still, he couldn’t deny that the events prior made for one of the best nights of his life. He just wasn’t a fan of the aftermath. Also, he quite liked Jose Cuervo.

Annette had gathered all of the components of Felix’s whoremongering outfit and held them up against her body, in simulation of a put-together ensemble. 

“See? You’ll look hot as _fuck_. I put a lot of thought into this, Felix, and don’t act like you don’t enjoy fashion! Get over here, I’m gonna do your eyeliner, and Mercie is gonna do your hair.”

Unfortunately, she was correct. The outfit _was_ hot as fuck, Felix admitted to himself, and he couldn’t help but imagine himself wearing it. Could he pull this kind of look off? Probably not. But he sort of really, _really_ wanted to. Annette didn’t need to know that, though. Wait, did she say _eyeliner?_

“So, if we aren’t going to celebrate here, then where are we going?”

Annette’s grin grew wider than Felix thought was possible.

“Clubbing. Duh.”

—

The seventh time Sylvain ran into Felix and his friends was at the nightclub down the street, and it was completely fine. It was so fine. Other than the fact that Felix looked hot as shit and Sylvain kind of followed him around all night like the shady motherfucker he was. It was fine. Fuck. Fuck!

Felix’s fit was immaculate from head to toe, but the kicker was the fishnets that crept up beyond the waist of his black cargo pants, stopping to show a hint of skin before his shirt took over. It is because of that hint of skin that Sylvain was frothing at the mouth and lurking like a cave cryptid.

It was something only Felix could pull off. Sylvain wanted to pull it off. Off of his— 

“Syl, whatcha looking at?”

Hilda looked up at him through long lashes. She swirled her drink.

“Oh. Nothing, I was just admiring that DJ’s _huge_ — “

“Hey! Is that Felix?” Dimitri shouted, eye wide with glee.

Great. Tonight was going to be a bad night, and it was only 9PM. Sylvain grabbed Dimitri’s shot while he wasn’t looking, and downed it. You’d think after their heart-to-heart chat earlier, Dimitri would’ve _maybe_ inferred who Sylvain had been lamenting over.

Sylvain stared down at his empty glass when Annette, Mercedes, and Felix joined them at the bar. He definitely didn’t feel jealous in the slightest when everybody commented on how great Felix looked. He was absolutely _chilling_ when Felix elected to take the barstool next to his.

He risked a glance up, and immediately regretted it, because he couldn’t stop staring. Felix was even more breathtaking close up. Even when he was scowling. Sylvain wished everyone else in the club would disappear, so only he could look at Felix. The thought of other people looking at Felix made him feel...resentful.

Sylvain’s hands were shaking, and was shocked at how unreasonably riled up he was. He tried to come up with something to say, but all of his options were wrong.

“It’s pretty funny that we keep running into each other like this,” Sylvain tried to keep the quiver out of his voice, and turned on his charming smile for good measure. “Makes me think that you’re following—” 

“Stop that,” Felix said coolly, sipping his straight liquor like it was nothing. 

“Stop what?” 

“That thing you’re doing. The personality switching thing. You know what I mean.” Felix waved his hand around as if that made everything clearer. Luckily, Sylvain knew exactly what he meant. Unluckily, it made Sylvain really nervous. He takes another shot.

“I don’t think I know what—”

“Okay, that’s enough. Let me talk.” Felix placed his glass on the bar with a loud thunk. He swivelled his stool so that they were face to face. His eyes were piercing. Sylvain couldn’t breathe, because if he moved even the slightest bit, their knees would touch.

“I get it. You’re the funny man on the internet and you wanna keep that up. But…” Felix pursed his lips. "I am filled with alcohol right now and I am feeling _dangerous._ So I’m gonna tell you that I haven’t been super honest with you.”

Sylvain went from not being able to breathe, to feeling like air was being straight up vacuumed out of his lungs. His face grew hot, but he was sure it was just from the shot. So he took another shot. Felix continued.

“I...enjoyed seeing you this week, and I enjoyed talking to you. I know I’ve said that before, but...I _really_ enjoyed talking to you. But not like this. I like you when you’re not putting up all these walls and pretending to be some other guy. Because otherwise you’re fucking annoying. And then I won’t talk to you. And I will walk away from you very fast.”

Felix was starting to not make sense, and his face was slightly tinged pink. Sylvain didn’t notice, however, because three words were the only thing swirling around in his head.

_I like you._

“ —which brings me to earlier this evening,” Sylvain woke from his reverie when Felix started talking again. “I’m sorry I ran off. Your show was good. It was great. I was just annoyed when you started being all weird about it.”

Sylvain was absolutely not about to cry in the club. What he _did_ do was reach out and place his hand on Felix’s knee without thinking.

“You’re the first person since Dima to notice that. You have no idea how much it means to me, what it means for someone to like... _me.”_ He anxiously awaited his reply.

But Felix didn’t respond, instead transfixed by Sylvain’s hand on his leg.

“Oh shoot, sorry, I don’t know why—” Sylvain stuttered, yanking his hand away.

Felix was fast, deftly catching Sylvain’s wrist. 

“It’s fine, it’s...nice.” He placed Sylvain’s hand back on his thigh, just a _bit_ higher, and Sylvain caught on fire.

_“HeyIthinkmyfriendsleftI’mgonnagofindthemnowgoodbye!”_

Sylvain launched himself from the bar like fucking Apollo 11, and retreated into the crowd of strangers on the dance floor. His friends were still at the bar, literally sitting right next to Felix.

What the fuck, Sylvain? He was right there, _right there_ showing that he might be a little bit interested, and Sylvain panicked. What if Felix didn’t mean it like that? Just two bros enjoying a gentle caress of the inner thigh? Isn’t that a thing that we bros do?

Either way, it didn’t stop the fear from creeping up Sylvain’s throat, the same fear he divulged with Dimitri. Just because Felix _might_ like him now doesn’t mean he won’t end up hating him later. That’s how it’s always been for Sylvain, and he wasn’t ready for it to happen again. Not with Felix. 

There’s a back door opening to an alleyway, and Sylvain took it as a chance to get some fresh air. It clears his head, and he feels calm enough to go back in and apologize. He wasn’t about to rewind all the work Dimitri did to hype him up, wasn’t about to go backwards.

But when he was halfway to the bar, his seat was taken. A man, infinitely more handsome than Sylvain could ever wish to be, sat in his place, chatting Felix up with a smile on his face. 

Sylvain takes three consecutive shots and leaves the nightclub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdyyyyy thank you for reading! i think one or two chapters are left depending on how i split it up?  
> twitter is lordfleasus


	8. so you just gonna bring me a birthday gift on my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man. Everyone takes an L in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Characters kiss under the influence of alcohol.

Felix feels a little dreamy, but not dreamy enough to not be pissed off at this Chad who was trying to get in his pants. He was already pissed off enough at himself for freaking Sylvain out so badly, that he screamed and teleported away. Birthday bash was going south real fast.

“Fuck off.” Fortunately, this was good enough to get the guy to saunter off. However, this left Felix looking straight at He-Man.

“I apologize for Sylvain’s behavior. He gets skittish around people who are nice to him.” Dimitri clamored over the stools between them to get closer, which meant Claude was coming too, since his arms were draped lovingly around his neck. 

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” Felix muttered, but without conviction. Hearing that from Dimitri had made him feel even guiltier. “...are people normally _not_ nice to him?”

Dimitri bit his lip. “More often than not, yes. I promise, he’s really a great guy! He’s just a little...troubled,” Dimitri defended. “He is a self-proclaimed ‘expert’ at ‘ruining his own life’.”

He made quotations in the air with his fingers. 

Claude decided to pipe up. Drunkenly. “I _feel_ that, man. I feel that _immensely._ He must feel _sooooooo_ worthless right now!” Dimitri looked concerned, squeezing his hand.

Felix’s heart plummeted. Despite the very recent confirmation that Sylvain wasn’t into him, he wanted to get up and go look for him. But it wasn’t his place to do that. It never was. Thinking about it made Felix even more upset, so he stood and found Annette and Mercedes living it up on the dance floor.

“Felix! How’s it going?” Mercedes bumped her hip against his, clearly tipsy.

“We’re taking shots. Now.”

With the cheers of the girls ringing out against the blaring music, the three made their way to the bar.

Back home, Felix was known for being quite fun when drunk; he didn’t have the highest tolerance for alcohol, and as a result, he got very buzzed _very_ quickly. So far, he hadn’t made any super bad decisions while under the influence, unless you count parkour on top of a Trader Joe’s as a ‘bad decision’. Felix thought it was a great decision, even when sober.

Felix had already fucked up tonight, and since he was already pretty tipsy, he was feeling destructive tonight. He might have participated in a few too many drinking games. He might have sent an inappropriate Slack message to Dedue, the hot upperclassman in his research lab. He might have, god forbid, _danced._ Felix does _not_ dance. Breakdancing isn’t dancing. It’s a competitive sport that happens to involve music and is way cooler than dancing.

One thing, however, was for sure: the longer the night drew out, and the more drinks he had, Felix found himself thinking about Sylvain more and more.

— 

Drunkenly sobbing his heart out in bed just wasn’t the vibe tonight, so Sylvain went to go pace on the balcony. He scanned the streets every five minutes for a flash of blonde hair heading up to meet him, but the night was still young, and Dimitri loved to party.

So Sylvain relocated his pacing to the hotel hallway.

Sylvain hated being alone. It made his thoughts race, and those thoughts weren’t pretty. The alcohol slowed him down a bit, but not enough; he could still only think about Felix. 

Luckily, at 1:04AM, Sylvain wasn’t alone. A figure clad in all black stumbled down the hallway. Sylvain ran up to Felix, and held him steady by his shoulders.

“H-hey. You’re Sylvain Gautier. The TikTok man.” 

Felix leaned his palms into Sylvain’s chest, but lost his balance, throwing the two of them into the wall. In this moment, Sylvain felt extremely unholy.

Felix was hammered.

“Hi Felix! Um…” Sylvain began to sweat bullets as his eyes darted around. Did Felix legitimately walk home from the club all alone, in this state? 

Sylvain asked him just that.

When Felix started giggling in response, filled with breathy hiccups, Sylvain felt like his heart was going to climb up into his throat and start screaming. 

“I’ve watched…like... _alllllllll_ of your videos…don’t tell Annie...”

Felix’s laughing overtook him, and he collapsed into Sylvain, face hooked in the crook of his neck. His cheek was scalding hot on Sylvain’s exposed collarbone, and Sylvain wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. If Felix weren’t intoxicated, he definitely would have noticed that Sylvain’s heartbeat was as fast as a phone on vibrate.

“I ran away...s’can’t find me…” Felix mumbled. His nails were starting to dig into Sylvain’s pecs, which would’ve been uncomfortable had it been anyone else, but it just made Sylvain feel unspeakably lewd. It didn’t help that wearing Dimitri’s shirt meant wearing a too-large neckline, and Felix was unashamedly ogling...the goods. 

“Your tits are huge, bro.” Felix murmured. He patted exactly one tit.

“Ah. T-thank you. I uh, made them myself?” Nice. 

Sylvain felt ashamed at the wave of bashful heat spreading through his body, and desperately tried to take back control of the situation, because Felix was starting to babble about how he goes to the gym every day and benches weights but his pecs aren’t _nearly_ as big as Sylvain’s and he doesn’t understand _why_ and it makes him _so_ sad and _GOD._

“Ran away from where? From who?” Sylvain redirected, as if he were questioning a toddler.

Without warning, Felix slapped his hands on either side of Sylvain’s face, cupping his cheeks. His chin tilted up so their eyes could meet. 

Felix’s predatory eyes had dissolved into soft, sleepy pools of gold. His eyelids were smudged with...eyeliner? Sylvain didn’t know Felix wore makeup, but the haphazardly wiped smear of black somehow made him even sexier, something he didn’t know was possible. A shitfaced smirk spanned from ear to ear. 

“Hey. Hey. Hey. Down here.”

Felix lightly slapped his hand on Sylvain’s cheek to get his attention; Sylvain had been staring up at the ceiling, trying exceptionally hard not to implode. He took a shaky breath, and forced his eyes down. 

“Guess what?” Felix’s eyes squinted, playful and appraising.

“What?” Sylvain dared.

The giggles started again, and Sylvain couldn’t keep his guard up any longer. Was he dreaming? He’s definitely dreaming, right? Did Sylvain really drink _that_ much tonight?

“It’s...my... _birthday_.”

Fuck. 

Sylvain bit his lip, trying to procure something to say that wasn’t whipped as hell. But Sylvain didn’t have time to figure that out, because Felix was pulling him down, hands wrapped around his neck, fingers twisted in his hair.

That was the last thing Sylvain’s liquid courage had needed to shatter Sylvain’s willpower. 

“What do you want for your birthday, Felix?”

Sylvain didn’t need to hear the answer, because the end of his question was suffocated when Felix dragged his mouth down to his own. 

Felix’s hair had fallen out of its ponytail, cascading down his back, and Sylvain took advantage of this in every way he could: creeping his fingers up the back of his skull, twirling his long locks in worship. His other hand was occupied at the small of Felix’s back, pulling their bodies flush against each other, leaving absolutely no space for any deity from head to toe. He desperately tried, in his stupor, to memorize the feeling of Felix’s hands running up his neck, his jaw, his face.

This was their easiest conversation so far, the one where their mouths moved without forming words. Each slip of their lips spelled a feeling, a need, a desire. Things that could only be understood by the two of them. Felix kissed the same way that he spoke: bluntly, harshly. He knew what he wanted from Sylvain, and Sylvain was more than happy to give that to him. After all, Sylvain wanted the same thing.

Sylvain desperately wanted to live in this moment for the rest of his days, but was brought back to his senses when he recognized the sting of tequila on their tongues. 

He pulled away, to which Felix protested, pulling him back in with insistent bites. For a moment, Sylvain relented, slamming back into the wall, but quickly stopped himself from caving into his desire.

“Felix... _Felix,”_ Sylvain rasped, then pulled off of Felix’s lips with a comical _pop,_ “I’m kinda drunk, and you’re _very_ drunk. I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret tomorrow morning.” 

Sylvain tucked a strand of hair away from Felix’s forehead, which was wrinkled in a scowl.

“Y-you’re...you don’t wanna?” Felix mumbled, his voice lilting. 

The scowl was quickly melting into innocent confusion, and it felt like Felix had driven one of his enormous swords straight through Sylvain’s heart.

“No! No no no, that’s not it at all!” Sylvain held Felix’s face up to his own. 

He looked so...soft. So opposite of his usual grumpy shell, rife with sharp edges and remarks (which he adored just as much). Sylvain quietly wished that he could experience this side of Felix without the alcohol.

“I just...I’d rather do this knowing it was what you really wanted. You know, without being drunk and all that. I don’t want you to end up regretting anything,” Sylvain explained, “and I think you could use some rest right now, don’t you think?”

Felix blinked once, twice, three times. Eventually, he let his eyes shut, and gave one quick nod. 

“Gonna...gonna sleep,” Felix started toward his room, Sylvain keeping him balanced with an arm around his shoulders. Felix mumbled something about his key card being in his pocket, so Sylvain reached in just about every goddamn pocket in Felix’s black cargo pants until he found it, swiping his hotel room door open. 

Felix crept behind the door, peering slyly through the crack at Sylvain.

“Bye bye.”

“Goodnight, Felix. Please drink some water.”

The lock clicked shut. Sylvain drifted to his own room, but couldn’t find the strength to enter. Instead, he dropped the back of his head against the door, slid down to a squat, and heaved a sigh appropriate for lungs thrice his size. 

“Ah, fuck,” Sylvain mumbled to himself, “I didn’t even say happy birthday.”

— 

**2:34 PM | Felix Fraldarius:** Hey did I message you last night

 **2:45 PM | Dedue Molinaro:** no.

 **2:45 PM | Felix Fraldarius:** Ok then nevermind

 **2:46 PM | Dedue Molinaro:** you sent me 42 snaps. lol.

 **2:46 PM | Felix Fraldarius:** Oh my god

Unfortunately, that spurred Felix’s brain awake, and he started to remember everything.

He especially remembered eating Sylvain Gautier’s face in the hallway.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Felix groaned loudly enough to wake Annette, who had been civilized enough to make it to her bed. Mercedes’ arm was lovingly wrapped around Annette’s waist, but continued to snore away.

“Felix, shut the hell up, it’s only like, 2PM in the morning,” she rasped.

“No, _you_ shut up. This is all your fault!” Felix made to stand, but was met with a wave of dizziness, so he settled for sitting, leaning into his palms pressed into the floor behind him. He was being unfair, and he knew his decisions were no fault but his own.

“It’s _my_ fault that you just had the best 21st birthday in the history of all 21st birthdays?” Annette rolled to the end of her bed and peered down at Felix, who was burying his face in his knees.

“Do you know how much stupid shit I did?” Felix accused, and got angrier when Annette gave a smug nod.

“Oh yeah, baby. You were all over the place! It was great, you really needed to let loose like that—” 

“No,” Felix interrupted, then paused, trying to think of the best way to say what was bouncing off the walls of his mind. 

“Something...something else happened when I left the club.”

Mercedes rose from her pillow. “We were looking for you everywhere, Felix, and were worried when you had disappeared. What happened?”

“Felix,” Annette beckoned, “is there something you would like to share with the class?” She continued to smile, but her brow furrowed with concern.

As irritated as he was, Felix held his tongue; it would do him no good to lash out at his best friend, even if her teasing was getting the best of him. Or in this case, the worst of him.

“Gah...I’m gonna take a shower.” 

Felix clunked into the bathroom, slammed the door closed, and wrenched the hot water on. Looking in the mirror, he realized how pathetic he looked. 

Annette had insisted on putting eyeliner on him last night, so the remnants of his stupor were smeared around his eyelids. His hair was tangled and mussed, and he wasn’t sure where he had misplaced his hair tie. What was a daring, tastefully revealing outfit the night before was now a wrinkled mess. Worst of all, his pale face was flushed pink, and his lips were bitten crimson; he wasn’t sure if this was a result of his hangover, his escapade with Sylvain, or both.

Ah, fuck. Sylvain.

Felix moaned in exasperation and clasped his hands over his face, the water pouring off of his elbows. 

How was he supposed to deal with this? Felix was normally not one to apologize, but this was an issue he couldn’t avoid. After all, not only had he straight up shoved his tongue down Sylvain’s throat, but if he remembered correctly, he went back for more even after Sylvain had pulled away. Being drunk is not, and would _never_ be an excuse for something like that.

Felix had transformed into the fuckboy of his nightmares.

He thumped his forehead on the glass sliding door of the shower. There was no doubt in his mind that he had to find Sylvain and apologize, no matter how much it could hurt. 

— 

**@falchiondarius:** Hey i dont have your number but we need to talk are you free later

 **@sylvain:** hey!! 

**@sylvain:** how r u feeling?? 

**@sylvain:** yea im free at 5 we can meet in front of ur room if ur down

 **@sylvain:** or we can grab dinner 

**@sylvain:** we dont have to tho if u dont wanna

 **@falchiondarius:** Yes

 **@sylvain:** yes to which one??

 **@falchiondarius:** Dinner is fine

 **@sylvain:** okk!!!! cya

Sylvain hated being left on read. Maybe he had been too forward with the exclamation points? Were the quintuple texts in a row too much? 

Is this a date? Well, after what happened last night, definitely not.

Either way, that question was the least of his problems. Sylvain had a full plate of appearances for the rest of the day, and he was going to have to push through them all with the gnawing anxiety of seeing Felix later.

It only made sense that Felix wanted to meet up, likely to ask Sylvain to never come near him again. Leave it to Sylvain to fuck things up with the first person he didn’t want to intentionally fuck things up with. 

“Dimitri, I’m heading out. I’ll be back later. Don’t puke on everything while I’m gone.”

When he looked back to see if his friend had stirred at all, he noticed that Claude was in Dimitri’s bed too. He must not have noticed him stumble in last night, too busy stewing in his stew of dread and guilt.

“Dima was really worried when you left, you know,” Claude chided, and at the sound of his voice, Dimitri mumbled and pulled him back down to the bed.

Of course Dimitri got dick before Sylvain. Of course.

The rest of the day went without incident, other than the constant reminders of last night’s Shakespearean Tragedy through Snapchat. Regardless, Sylvain anxiously counted down the minutes until he had to meet up with Felix.

Felix wanted Raising Canes again, so they went to Raising Canes. Sylvain didn’t mind; people who weren’t local to SoCal were obsessed with that place. He politely waited as Felix scarfed down his chicken like a feral rat. It was endearing.

They did have to talk about it eventually, though. Sylvain spoke up first.

“How are you feeling? I heard you were taking shots with Dimitri last night, and I know from experience that that never ends well.”

Felix smiled wearily. “I’m fine. Just tired.” 

“Yeah, me too. I might not look like it, but I actually don’t enjoy clubbing that much.”

“Why?”

“Being around so many people at once can be really nerve-wracking. I also tend to do and say stuff that I shouldn’t.” Sylvain swallows. “Which brings us to last night.”

Felix poked around his plate with a french fry. “Yeah.”

Deep breath. 

“I’m so sorry, Felix. You were drunk, and I should’ve stopped it as soon as it happened. I shouldn’t have kept going.” He took another breath in, trying to slow his heartbeat. “And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me after this.”

Sylvain was staring down at his hands, but when he looked up, Felix looked baffled.

“Wait. Why are _you_ apologizing? I asked you to meet up with me because _I_ wanted to apologize.” Felix knitted his brows.

“...Huh?”

“I was the one who kissed you, right? I initiated it. So I’m the one to blame. It wasn’t right.” Felix wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, though.”

“Yeah, but just because you weren’t uncomfortable doesn’t mean you wanted it as much as I did,” Felix stated, before realizing what he just said. “And we were both really drunk,” he appended.

Sylvain did his best to stay unaffected when Felix blushed profusely, but it wasn’t working. 

“Okay...I guess we both did something wrong then. In that case, I forgive you nonetheless.” Sylvain kept his voice steady.

“Yeah. Same here.”

When they fell back into silence, it wasn’t the awkward kind from earlier: this silence was charged, thoughts suspended in the air. Technically, the conversation was over, and the issue was solved, but the desire to say more was persistent.

Sylvain stared at Felix, and Felix stared back. He felt like he was going to burst.

What was he thinking? Was he thinking the same thing? 

Sylvain couldn’t do it.

He stood abruptly, his chair screeching on the floor. “Do you want to head out?”

Felix looked up at him with pursed lips. His expression was unreadable.

“Yeah.”

— 

“Is that everything?”

Mercedes slammed her minivan trunk closed with a surprising amount of fervor for such a gentle woman. Everyone was full of surprises on this trip.

Annette hopped into the passenger seat, her EDM already blasting from the car speakers. “Yep, that should be it! Hope you all used the bathroom, because we’ve got a long ass drive ahead of us.”

Felix didn’t respond, climbing into the backseat and shutting his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for the entire trip home. 

Instead, however, beneath the expanse of the moonlit sky, Felix couldn’t help but think of what might have been, and how it would feel to kiss Sylvain again, and to do it right. If he hadn’t been such a coward. If Sylvain had actually liked him back.

God, what an idiot. Both of them. Yeah, Felix was an idiot for thinking that Sylvain actually wanted him, that he meant something, but Sylvain was equally guilty for leading him on like that.

Then, was he even leading him on in the first place? Isn’t that how he treats everyone he meets? Was Felix really just like anyone else, a gullible fool who fell for Sylvain’s honeyed words and venomous tricks? 

Did he really mean nothing to Sylvain after all? 

Upon arriving at their apartment, Annette tried to catch up with Felix as he stormed to his room. 

“Felix, I just want to know what’s going on. You’ve been out of it since last night, and I’m worried about you. Will you please talk to me?”

Felix genuinely didn’t hear her from under the covers of his bed, too busy trying not to cry over a stupid boy by smothering his face with a pillow. Heartbreak sucked. Still, that was all his fault anyways, his fault for letting his emotions play a role in his life, baring them for someone to see, and twist, and smother. This was his burden to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thaaanks for waiting! it's finals week...don't tell anyone i'm here...  
> Check out my [newest fic!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773968/chapters/67989223)


	9. the start of something new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain and Felix make some interesting decisions.

Sylvain had been trying for years to help Dimitri break out of his shell ever since his parents had died. Normally, he would be overjoyed that Dimitri texted and called his new friends almost daily. VidCon friends. AKA Felix’s friends. Felix’s friends who lived with Felix.

He was doing an exceptionally good job pretending everything was peachy keen, and Dimitri had no idea Sylvain was even interested in Felix in the first place. There was no reason for him  _ not  _ to call Felix’s friends in his apartment, which was also Sylvain’s, who was most definitely not bothered by it in the slightest. He had no reason to be. Other than feeling like his heart was being stomped on by a pair of black combat boots every time they called because it reminded him that Felix was over there with people who were not him. Felix made those boots look so damn good.

Even after a week had passed, Sylvain couldn’t stop thinking about Felix. He passed by campus buildings he saw every day, but started imagining what it would be like to give Felix a tour of them, hand in hand. He orders coffee before class and wonders how Felix liked his coffee, if he even liked coffee at all. His heart leapt when he saw strangers with long black hair, then sunk back down when they turned around.

TikTok was sort of ruined for Sylvain as well. He deleted the app after one of Felix’s older videos popped up on his feed. Felix hadn’t posted since the convention, a detail Sylvain was ashamed he had noticed.

_ Your worth doesn’t have shit to do with what people think of you. You know that, right? _

Felix was right, and Sylvain was not surprised to find that he didn’t miss the app much when it was gone. Still, Sylvain stayed up every night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what Felix thought of him now, ironically.

Things were better off this way, with no maintenance of contact whatsoever. Felix probably hasn’t thought of Sylvain once since he left. Maybe he’s forgotten about him by now. 

Goddammit. Now Sylvain was sniffling in the library. He packed up his things and left.

When he got to his apartment, Sylvain smelled smoke. He ran into the kitchen to find an overboiling pot of rice pudding, leaking onto the stovetop and burning to a charred goo.

“DIMITRI.”

Sylvain turned the stove fan on and removed the pot while Dimitri scampered over, yanking his earbuds out.

“I’m so sorry! I got distracted, and I forgot, and...I just wanted to do something nice…”

Ah. Rice pudding was Sylvain’s favorite.

“Thanks buddy, but what’s this for? I haven’t done anything particularly nice for you recently.” He prepared a bowl for Dimitri and himself, then plopped on the couch, which was also in the kitchen, because their kitchen was also their living room, and their hallway, and their bedroom. Studio apartments are funky.

“You’re upset,” Dimitri stated, sitting down on the couch next to Sylvain.

“No I’m not. Cleaning the stove is no problem.”

“You’re upset about Felix.”

Sylvain halted mid-bite. “Where’d you get  _ that _ idea?”

“I was just texting Annette. She’s really worried about Felix, and she suspects it’s because of you.” Dimitri blew on his spoonful of pudding a little too hard, and it plopped onto his jeans. He used his spoon to scoop it back up, then stared at it for a while as he pondered whether to eat it or toss it in the sink.

Felix wasn’t doing well? Because of  _ him? _ Sylvain felt the pit of guilt in his chest creep outward. 

“What makes her think I have anything to do with that?”

Dimitri paused to pull his Samsung Galaxy S5 from his back pocket, then handed it to Sylvain. The scratched screen showed a log of Facebook messages with Annette (Dimitri’s phone could no longer handle text messages). 

**5:54 PM | Annette Dominic:** he like wontgo to any of his classes

**5:54 PM | Annette Dominic:** hes just lying in bed and when i try 2 talk to him he doesnt even respond

**5:55 PM | Annette Dominic:** like he wont even hiss like he normally does when i wake him up

**5:59 PM | Annette Dominic:** oh wait also yesterday he was staring at sylvains instgaram profile pic for five hours 

**5:59 PM | Annette Dominic:** i know it was at least five hrs bc i checked on him every 30min and it was still there

**5:59 PM | Annette Dominic:** i think he likes him 

**6:05 PM | Annette Dominic:** wwait pls dont tell sylvain felix will kill me like ill actually die

**6:08 PM | Annette Dominic:** he has real swords in our living room dimitri pls respond !!!!!!!! oh my God

“Oh, I didn’t see those last two messages,” Dimitri took his phone back and began to calmly type a response with his left index finger. His thumbs were too large.

But Sylvain wasn’t thinking about Dimitri’s thumbs.

Sylvain stood abruptly, his bowl of pudding clattering to the floor, to which Dimitri let out a scandalized gasp. He grabbed his warmest jacket from the coat rack, checked his pocket for his keys and phone, then headed for the door. 

“Sylvain!” Dimitri exclaimed. “Where are you going?”

But Sylvain was already out the door. His hands shook, and he could hear his blood pumping through his ears. He shouted at Dimitri over his shoulder.

“Out.”

—

At 12:30 AM, on the dot, Annette was being really fucking loud. 

She had been acting strange all day, doing things like cooking Felix curry and telling him how much she loved him with wide, frantic eyes. Asking him if he’d ever use his swords on other people. What about people who really really liked him and were his roommate and best friend forever.

But this was  _ really  _ strange: both of them knew not to be loud at night on Tuesdays: their third roommate, Lysithea, only slept once per week, and that was on Tuesdays, since she was busy studying the other six days.

At first, Felix only heard a squeal, which was cut short. Then he heard their front door close. Annette is not good at whispering, even though she thinks she is; for the subsequent five minutes, he heard her vague mumbles, paired with intermittent pauses.

She was talking to someone, likely Mercedes, since  _ she _ actually knew what whispering meant, and Felix couldn’t hear anyone else talking. Annette, however, was getting louder, and his patience had worn too thin. What the  _ fuck _ is she so loud for?

“What the  _ fuck _ are you so loud—” 

Felix’s bedroom door only opened halfway before he slammed it back closed. This was because he opened it, saw Sylvain Gautier sitting on his couch, and became aware that he was not wearing pants. Or a shirt. Felix did not own pajamas.

Also, Sylvain was in his living room.

After haphazardly slipping on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, Felix sat on his bed, panting. He could just never come out of his room again, and leave Sylvain wondering if he was still in there, or if he had died. Like Schroedinger’s cat.

Unfortunately, Felix was not a cat. He was a person, a very real person who was facing the very real problem of Sylvain being present in his apartment. Maybe he could sneak out through his window? No, his window was busted, and wouldn’t open. Tell Sylvain he was sick and couldn’t come out? No, Annette was a traitorous wench with a wicked agenda (how  _ else  _ would Sylvain know where they lived?), and would definitely tell Sylvain he was lying.

Or, he could leave his room and actually talk to Sylvain. Like a mature adult.

Felix  _ did  _ miss Sylvain. A lot. He missed him so much that he hadn’t been able to function for a week. Still, now that he was actually here, he was just a bit afraid of what Sylvain was going to say. 

But Felix was done being a coward.

Well, sort of. Slowly, he turned his doorknob and peered out the sliver of his open door. 

Yep, that sure was Sylvain, clad in a denim sherpa jacket, white t-shirt, and khakis. Felix was pleased to see he had left his shoes at the door. 

“We can see you, bitch.” Annette said flatly.

Fine. Felix kicked the door open, which creaked unceremoniously. He remained with his feet planted in the doorway. 

“Hi.” he stated.

“Hi.” Sylvain’s expression was unreadable.

Felix didn’t have the willpower to counter that, so he sighed, pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and retreated back into his room. Sylvain understood, and followed behind.

This sucked. This sucked so bad. Felix’s room wasn’t disgusting, but all of his belongings were in places they shouldn’t be. He had a disheveled stack of assignments piled on his desk chair, and a wrinkled heap of clean laundry on top of his desk. 

His laptop was wedged in between his mattress and his wall; there was no headboard, since there was no bed frame at all. Sure, Felix  _ owned _ a bed frame, but when he tried to assemble it, he broke the headboard on accident, got frustrated, and did not continue. 

But Felix was not like other male college students, and did not leave his mattress on the floor. He had shoved his bookshelf down to the floor and stacked his mattress on top of that.

The bookshelf-frame was not very tall, so when Felix motioned for Sylvain to sit, his legs were too long for it to be comfortable. He didn’t seem to mind, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

Felix sat next to him, but left precisely fifteen inches of space between them. He folded his arms and dug his nails into his sweatshirt.

“Hi.”

“You already said hi.” Sylvain smiled nervously.

Well, that’s all Felix had in his word arsenal at the moment, because the rest of his brain was in flames. He scraped through the rubble in search of something intelligent.

“My room is kind of a mess.” If you think about it, intelligence is relative.

“This is fine. Dimitri is much worse.” 

If Felix was cleaner than Dimitri, then that meant Sylvain was cleaner than Felix, and  _ god _ wasn’t that absolutely mortifying. It didn’t help that his hair was a tangled mess, and that his sweatpants were a different shade of black than his black sweatshirt, one of his greatest pet peeves.

Next to Sylvain, whose hair was radiant, and whose clothes were complimentary, Felix felt like a repeatedly stomped-on weed. He usually wasn’t too insecure about his looks, but he was currently sitting in a room with the guy whose picture he stared at on Instagram for seven hours straight last night. Sylvain didn’t need to know that, and he never will.

Still, as self-conscious as he was, Felix had realized there was only one reason for Sylvain to drive for six hours in the middle of the night to see him. He didn’t know how to ask him about it, though. 

“How was the drive?” Baby steps.

“Uh...it was alright. A little dark.” 

Sylvain wouldn’t look at him, and his leg was bouncing so hard that Felix was about to fall off the bed. He was pretty sure Sylvain hadn’t thought this through either, despite travelling over three-hundred miles to get to this point, and the conversation was going to trudge on like this until they crumbled to dust if Felix didn’t come up with something to do about it.

Well. 

He had  _ one  _ idea. 

“Do you wanna make ou—”

Felix didn’t even get to finish his question when Sylvain lunged at him. 

Fifteen inches went to negative two in a matter of seconds. Sylvain’s momentum pushed Felix’s back down to the bed. When he wrapped his arms up and around Sylvain’s back, pulling him closer to his chest, he sank deeper into the mattress. 

Sylvain’s lips made Felix feel even more drunk than he did the first time they kissed, when he was  _ actually  _ drunk. He kissed Felix desperately, unafraid of possibly being too fast or too sloppy, as if he wanted Felix so badly that his body moved faster than he could think. Felix wanted him even more. 

He started to place his kisses a little further from Sylvain’s mouth, slowly traversing down his chin, his neck. Felix divested him of his jacket, but left it at the foot of the bed, as opposed to throwing it on the floor like he normally would. When he gently tugged Sylvain’s shirt collar to expose his clavicle, a quiet moan escaped Sylvain’s lips. 

Oh, that was nice. That was  _ really  _ nice.

He slid lower, hands skating down Sylvain’s front, and rucked up the hem of his shirt. Felix ran his hands up his sides, his abdomen, eager to pull another cry out of him. He leaned down and laved kiss after kiss on Sylvain’s exposed stomach.

Sylvain let out a loud groan, his head lolling back. Felix smirked, feeling on top of the world, until Sylvain pushed himself up off the bed and spun them around, so his back was to the wall. Felix wasn’t sure exactly what Sylvain did next, but whatever it was, it felt  _ good.  _

It wasn’t fair that Sylvain had the upper hand when it came to this kind of shit. So, Felix started fiddling with the fly of Sylvain’s pants.

“Okay, wait— _ fuck _ —wait,” Sylvain gasped. Felix fell back, worried he had gone too far. He drew himself up to his knees, but Sylvain grabbed his waist and plopped him right back down.

_ “NO, _ no no  _ no, _ you stay. Right here. We just...we have to talk about our feelings.”

Felix groaned. He was not in the mood to talk about his feelings. He was in the mood to do other things.  _ Lots  _ of other, more fun things.

“Can’t that wait for like, another hour? Two hours?” Felix panted as he caressed Sylvain’s torso, unable to keep his hands off of him.

“Come on, you know this is important,” Sylvain sat up straight, but kept Felix firmly in his lap with a hand on each of his hips. His warm smile only made Felix more flustered.

“Fine. I’ll start. I like you. The end.”

Felix pressed his palm to Sylvain’s chest, shoved him back down to the mattress, and got back to work on the trail of hickeys he was about to start, before he was so rudely interrupted. Sylvain started giggling, which made things a lot harder. 

Before Felix could shift his weight to hold him still, Sylvain pushed his back down to the mattress so Felix was now the one being straddled. The weight of Sylvain’s thighs made Felix delightfully delirious.

“There. You’re stuck now, so we’re going to talk, and you’re going to give me your undivided attention,” Sylvain said indignantly, stroking the ends of Felix’s hair.

“I  _ was  _ giving you my undivided attention. Now let me divide your pants.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. Anyways—” Sylvain fell into a fit of infectious giggles before he could finish speaking. Felix joined in, laughing so hard that they rolled around on the bed. It took a minute for them to calm down, because whenever they made eye contact, they started laughing again. It wasn’t even funny, but they were idiots with no semblance of self-control.

_ “Anyways,  _ I want to start by explaining myself. I know I was being really confusing last week, and I shouldn’t have been. I was just nervous that I was going to mess up and make you hate me, so I tried to act all cool about it, and that made you  _ actually  _ hate me.”

Felix scowled. “I don’t hate you, dumbass. I never hated you. I just couldn’t tell if you really did like being around me, or if you were just playing me and making fun of me.” Felix laced his fingers with Sylvain’s. “Nobody hates you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain bit his lip, then took a deep breath before letting out a colossal sigh. “Okay, maybe talking about our feelings was a bad idea, because I think I’m about to cry.”

“You’re such a baby.”

_ “Ooh, _ you’re already calling me  _ baby?” _ Sylvain teased, before collapsing on top of Felix to litter his face with kisses. He liked it more than he wanted to admit.

“H-hey! You’re the one who wanted to talk, so we’re gonna talk.” Felix scrambled to his knees, and Sylvain followed suit.

“Sorry!” He didn’t look sorry. He didn’t look the slightest fucking bit sorry. 

Felix flicked his forehead, and took a moment to piece together the events of last week.

“So, did you come to the nightclub because you knew I would be there?”

Sylvain arched his eyebrows and wagged his finger. “No, I most definitely did not. I didn’t know you were gonna be there, and I didn’t know you were gonna be there looking like a sex demon.”

_ “You  _ were the one with your fucking tits hanging out.”

“Oh, so you admit that you were checking me out that night?” Sylvain bit his lip and narrowed his eyes in mock seductiveness, so Felix shoved him. He fell back with an exaggerated cry.

“So what if I was?” Felix leaned over him. “Would you have wanted me to stop?”

Sylvain squeezed his eyes shut and clapped his hands on Felix’s shoulders. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You’re making me horny on purpose. That’s not very nice.”

Felix held his hands up in defense, a smirk creeping on his face. “Hey, if you don’t like what’s coming  _ out _ of my mouth, I can think of one thing to put  _ in—”  _

“My god, I have to teach you some better pickup lines,” Sylvain interrupted, as Felix giggled at his own awful joke. Felix helped pull Sylvain back up to a seated position, and was met with an expression that was much too warm, and much too honest. He really did want to have a serious talk, and the thought of that made Felix a little tense.

Sylvain sighed, and took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. “What I’ve been trying to say is...is that you make me feel happy in a way that no one else has ever been able to do before, and I want to make you feel the same way. I like you, Felix. I like you a whole lot, and I promise to be completely transparent about that from here on out, if you’re willing to give me the chance.”

Now Felix was the one who wanted to cry. He bit the inside of his cheek, and took deep breaths through his nose. He’d never been good at talking about things like this, and wasn’t sure how to start. But with Sylvain, he wasn’t afraid to try.

“Does this mean we can go on dates?”

Sylvain grinned. “Yeah. We’ll go on lots of dates, Felix. Lots and lots of dates. So many that you’ll be tired of me, but you better not be, because you’re stuck here with me.”

Felix couldn’t help but return the smile, remembering Sylvain’s additional year; the thought of Sylvain spending his last year of university with him made him giddy. The thought of  _ dating  _ Sylvain made him straight up overjoyed.

“Let’s go on a date. Right now.” Felix abruptly stood from the bed, but Sylvain tackled him back down.

“Right  _ now?  _ It’s almost two in the morning.”

“Taco Bell is open until three.”

“You’re _hungry?”_ Sylvain belted incredulously, so Felix slapped a hand over his mouth. He murmured quietly through Felix’s hand, “you want our first date to be at _Taco Bell?”_

Sylvain was about to continue babbling, but Felix stared daggers at him.

“Actually, that sounds perfect.” 

He smiled the most genuine, exhilarated smile Felix had seen from him.

Sylvain stood from the bed, and took Felix by the hand. “I could really go for a Baja Blast right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg it's finished! thank you so much for sticking with me on this radical socal safari to the very end! this is the very first fandom i've ever made content for, let alone participated in in general, so it means the world to me that you're supporting me! 
> 
> also this chapters title is up to interpretation! is it the voxtrot song? or is it the karaoke song from smash hit high school musical series? could it be both? up to you!
> 
> if you had a good time, please consider checking out my pride and joy, [I Appear Missing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773968/chapters/67989223), my new sylvix fic that delves into what makes sylvain tick, in a band AU set in the late 90's-early 2000's alternative rock scene!
> 
> oh finally also im on twitter @d0themario


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